The Adventures of John 'Jack' Morrison and Fareeha Amari
by Guardian of Runeterra
Summary: I do not own Overwatch, or the characters or the settings. J. Morrison-Centric. The Soldier reminisce the times he used to spent for granted. Dwelling in his past mistakes, we now see another angle of Jack Morrison, one of the greatest military minds of that time, as he struggles to combat his greatest nemesis: a twelve-year old. Why?
1. Chapter 1

**a/n I would like to thank Inazumaneko for providing me the picture and inspiration.**

* * *

I gently slid my rifle on the clerk's counter. Only one lamp provided illumination in this cramped room. "What I'm showing to you now is a standard issued mark I XM9 Plasma Rifle. This was one of the first anti-Omnic weapon of its kind, developed and mass-produced from the United States Arsenal. Even though it still is the weapon of choice in neo-steel armor penetration, the gun phased out with the more popular and cheaper M10 +1+. That said… it is _still_ the weapon of choice for many due to its customizability. Take a look on the muzzle, the stock…" I rubbed my hands. "Beautiful, isn't it? Vanadium plating in the highest grade. State of the art Feltrite couplers. It could punch through dozens of centimeters of steel. You with me so far?"

"Kinda," he said. I don't know if he could say it to me in a straight face with his gas mask on. But I could almost smell the cold sweat stinking on his face.

I bent my back in an arc, popping out a bone, and then turned my gun from the bottom up. I tapped the ammunition slot. "You see this?"

He shrugged. "That's where you put the battery."

I was beginning to get irritated. Adjusting my Infiltrator Mask +2+, I coolly replied. "Yes, it does. It takes in STANAG (Standard Agreement) size B power cells. It can be box, sickle, or drum, but it needs size B's or else they can't fit. You know what a size B is?"

"…Yes?"

Crap. Am I dealing with a moron here? Huffing, I clawed out a battery from my bag and placed it next to my rifle. "Then do you know what this is?" I placed my hands inside my jacket pockets.

"A power cell." Silence. "There's a lot like this from our store."

"This is a size A." I grabbed the gun and the bat and tried to fit it together, only to clang loudly. "See? It can't fit. These things are too small, and I have box filled with this. I asked for size B's, not A's."

"Do you have the receipt?" I gave him the damn receipt. He started tapping on the laptop beside him. "It… checks out. One box of standard pattern power cells."

"For XM9's. See this?" I pointed at the receipt where it specifically said XM9.

"We were instructed to ship out standard pattern power cells."

"Standard size B's. Three inches. This here is a two point five inch size A's."

"But it said standard pattern. I have the ledger here."

"Why do I need to look at your friggin' ledger? I have a box of bats that are useless to me. It may be standard pattern for M10's, but I specifically asked for ammunition suitable for XM9's." I feel my voice rising.

"…But it says standard pattern."

I slammed my fist on the table. "Listen to me! I don't care if you have standard patterned everything around here, because your standard pattern business is getting on my standard pattern nerves! If you want to live again doing your standard pattern job and get your standard pattern paycheck, you'd better give your standard pattern customer a damned standard pattern customer satisfaction, or else he'll jam a standard pattern knife into your sub-standard brain!"

The door suddenly opened, and with it, a hoarse shout. "What the hell is this?" I was going to beat the crap out of him for barging into business deals where he's not concerned, but I stayed my hand and vented all my anger onto him.

"Your customer service sucks, Stragg!"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Easy there, Mr. James. We don't want any trouble." He shown himself under the light, showing off his pinstriped white coat and expensive leather shoes. All this bling compensates to the ugly mug of his scarred face. Burnt scars everywhere, right down to the scalp. He looks like a zombie. "Is there problem that _I_ can resolve?" He even talks like a zombie with his scratchy voice.

I gave him the box. "You made a bad delivery. I asked for-"

"Size B. I get it. Heard it outside." He dropped the box on the clerk's desk, spooking him. I don't know if it's fear from being fired or being stared by two sunken orbs. "We have a secure phone line. Have you ever thought using that?" Stragg took the laptop and started typing.

"It's down. I tried calling a few times when the run's running late, and your little mess up is just incentive to get to you directly."

"And it's a good thing I'm visiting Italy, or else you'll be stuck here." He put the laptop down and faced me. "Bunch of idiots, all of them." He turned to look at the clerk. "What are you trying to prove by wearing a damn gas mask?"

"To hide my identity. Company policy."

He leaned forward, showing his gnarly teeth. "We have other masks from the staff room. Why don't you use those?"

The clerk shrugged. "Because gas masks are cool?"

He leaned back and faced me again. "Idiots." He waved me to follow him outside. I picked up my stuff, gave the numbskull the stare and left.

"That doesn't promote good faith," I said as we went out into the swamp. Abandoned bunkers littered under the low-lying branches, almost seemingly sinking under the green ooze that is the algae. This was once a base for the Italian/NATO military, but after the Crisis they have to sell it due to the difficulties of maintaining it +3+. But hey, what better place is it for some arms dealer to store goods with?

"That's _why_ we have a hotline," he answered back as we weaved through the busy workers. Some of them stepped back so they could salute at him. "There's no need to drop in in person. It's bad for business when our clients could find my stores." Oh yeah. Before I forget, I have to mention that Stragg is an illegal guns manufacturer, if that wasn't clear in the beginning.

"I told you, the line's dead." We stopped in front of another bunker. "And I came in clean, for your information."

He rubbed his temples with his callused fingers. "Okay, what do you mean it's 'dead'?"

I punctuated my words carefully. "It's dead. As in 'dead' dead. All nine of 'em." I unzipped my jacket while we're out. It's damn humid out here.

Stragg shook his head. "That's impossible. Are you sure it's not your area code or something?"

"You think I like getting exposed out here? I tried everything, and I'm not waiting any longer than usual." Besides, my HPR (Heavy Pulse Rifle) could use some rest once in a while.

He sighed and pulled out his phone. "I'm going to talk to someone. Merchandise's going to come out from this end. Come to my place if you need anything." He then went off to his office bunker while I laid back against the wall.

I bet that 'someone' he's going to call would be the Italian Government. Nobody really knows that Stragg had gone legit besides some rumors in the underworld. The Italians let him manufacture as much guns as he wants in exchange for a lot of crucial intel in the criminal underground, which became a pain in the ass for the people on the receiving end. They kept a close eye on him, let him pay taxes and provide him with some rudimentary benefits, such as secured communications.

How come I know this? It doesn't matter. I'm just here for some batteries.

"Sir James?" someone with a gasmask asked. I turned towards the bunker entrance to see a guy with a box. "Your... uh, stuff?"

We exchanged boxes. After inspecting the contents, I bid him farewell and headed towards the office. I need to inform him that I'm going to leave so that his guards won't shoot me on the way out. I was about to press the doorbell when it suddenly slid open to reveal Stragg, looking all terrified.

"What's the matter?" I asked, until I looked at the giant suitcase he's carrying.

"We've got to go!" he shouted.

"Go where?" But he was running off.

He rushed towards a pole in the middle of the base. There, he pressed a button at the base and red klaxons wailed over the swamp. Age-old speakers sang a sad crackling tune of sirens. "We've been had!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Everybody, drop everything and run!" They didn't at first, even though Stragg went ahead without waiting for their reactions.

"76," Gory, my Omnic Armor AI, chimed. "I'm detecting multiple bogeys three hundred feet above us. Sorry I couldn't sense sooner."

Looking up the sky as Gory pointed out, I mouthed, "What the…"

"I'll try my best next time," Gory continued.

Slowly, some of us on the ground started looking up and pointing at the white streams forming across the sky. It looks far too small and slow to be a jet, but that only meant one thing. Knowing whom we're up against, I started running for my hovercycle at the parking lot/motor pool. As soon as I got near the parking booth, I heard the pop and whoosh of a rocket.

And not just one rocket. A dozen of them, all crashing into the motor pool and destroying all means of escape. The explosions were the trigger of the base occupant's panic. Anyone fast enough was running for the bunkers or tried swimming away through the swamp. Those who're slow on their feet, they got boxed in by the human jets landing all over the not-so-secret base.

Anyone who resisted got tazed or shoved aside. They quickly began smoking the bunkers with tear gas, flushing the occupants out. Tactical efficiency, capitalization of the element of surprise, hard drilled precision. It's not surprising coming from one of the toughest PMC's out there, the Helix Security International.

But they have yet to face me +4+. I hid behind a crate while they all herded the captured personnel into a circle. Contemplating the circumstances while I exchanged my circlet for my Tactical Visor, I wondered why some esteemed paramilitary group would want with Stragg? They have to know that his business is legit, through and through. Have the Italians been notified for this raid… or is Stragg not useful to them anymore?

Whichever the case, I need to get out of here. I ran my way through the crates and into the dark spaces between the bunkers. The motor pool wouldn't be the only place to store cars in. I turned into a corner only to find myself at the other end of a shotgun barrel. Three of them.

"Soldier: 76," one of them slowly spoke. It was the one in the middle, wearing a deep water blue-green Raptora Mark VI, which I thought was in its prototype phase. I've heard her many times in TV to recognize that voice. "This seems too good to be true."

"Pharah," I replied, keeping the box of power cells under my armpit and the XM9 on my other arm steady. "My, my… Look how you have grown." My voice filter made it sound menacing, but in truth, I genuinely admired her from a distance even if she got a gun pointed at me. This _is_ my first meeting of her, for a long time. "What brings you here, anyhow?"

"It is none of your concern," she crisply countered. "But it was nice enough of you for doing us a favor by presenting yourself in such a way. How do you say it? Two birds in one stone?"

"Don't worry, 76!" Gory reassured me. "I'll be here warming up my Orgone Barriers."

I acknowledged it silently. Returning to the conversation at hand, I stalled for time. "Now, now." I stepped back, which prompted them to re-aim their guns at me. "I'm just here for a business trip. Nothing to be hostile about."

She chuckled. "You say that with a straight face after you steal from us."

"I don't remember you being there when that happened." I stepped back a little more. "Although I remembered you when-" I immediately threw the box at her and charged forward. All three shotguns barked.

+1+ There was also an 'X' in the beginning, which means Experimental. Ever since it became standard issued, the 'X' was dropped.

+2+ The Infiltrator Mask is a hologram projector used by Special Forces or Omnic saboteurs. It's not a mask per se, but a very sophisticated circlet.

+3+ For example, high upkeep is needed in order to prevent the base from fully sinking into the ground. They chose to place it in a swamp because combat-ready Omnics are generally heavy, but that also lead to another problem: transportation. It's hard enough for a human to travel on foot, let alone ground vehicles, although air transportation may be even worse. Due to high winds from the low-lying mountains and the cumbersome trees, it would need skilled pilots in order to traverse the tree lines. After the Crisis, the strategic importance of the base waned, and it was then sold to whoever has interest in it.

+4+ He actually has many encounters with Helix personnel. The fact he is there respecting these people from afar meant that all their attempts are a total failure. But now…

* * *

Yes… I remembered it like it was yesterday…

"What happened to this being a business trip?" I asked as we lumbered through the hallway.

Raj, one of my trusted staff officers, always by my side, was flicking his tablet. "It's imperative that you attend to this ceasefire meeting, sir."

I zipped up my coat since we're indoors now, which is liberal with air conditioners. I'm starting to think that the Egyptians are planning to kill my children, judging on how they want to freeze my balls in here +1+. "I think we did a good job on the show." That military exercise yesterday would make any half-wit army out there wet their pants. I need to remind myself to treat the boys later. "Besides, aren't the Egyptian and AU (African Union) big wigs enough for them?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not, sir. We need someone from our side to talk things out there. We _did_ domost of the fireworks."

I sighed. "Fine. I think Reinhardt is free tomorrow. Tell him it's an order, or something."

"That's a negatory. They requested Commander Jack Morrison, in the flesh. Anyone less would be considered as an insult."

I sighed harder. "They do realize that they're in no the position to negotiate on who goes who. I mean, what happens if I don't?"

"Then a war erupts and tens of thousands would die," he said a-matte-o-fact-ly.

I paused. "Good point." Great! Even more responsibilities, and this time it's on my head if I fail this ceasefire.

We were nearing my office. "Something on your mind, sir?"

Perceptive as usual. "Yeah, just thinking about what I'm going to say tomorrow." What _am_ I going to say?

"Think of it as 'business as usual'. Like always." He gave me a smile.

I forced a chuckle. "Yeah, yeah… Business as usual." It's always been life and death in Overwatch. Bright flashes appeared in my periphery. "Look like we got company."

I pointed at the paparazzi forming up at the other end of the hallway. Once they saw me, they started crowding forward. Their hails and questions grows louder at each step.

"I'll take care of it," Raj said. I'm glad someone could take the bullet for me. As I opened my new, but temporary, office, Raj ran forward with his arms apart, blocking the nuisance. "Please hold your all question at the press conference will be held tomorrow. Commander Morrison will be present…"

The unneeded noise was cut off as soon as the door slid shut. Stretching my back, I observed my swanky crib. Eggshell green walls, modern furniture, a mini fridge that I'm about to dig into later, an up to date computer, moderated temperature of my liking, and the most important of all, the view. The best of what Diamond Hotel has to offer. After taking a glass of orange soda +2+ from the fridge, I stared outside to admire the city skylines of Cairo.

Beyond my bulletproof glass windows, I could see urban areas stretched from end to end with spires tackling scraping the sky, although it pales in comparison to where I'm standing on. I can recognize some historical sites from up here. A mix of old and new, blending, although both are subjected to the smog hanging around the streets. I wouldn't call it the best view all around, but I enjoy a good sightseeing mixed with some soda once in a while. Makes me feel… powerful. Yeah, that's the word.

Then a jet started soaring close over my head, shaking up my office and officially ruining my mood.

I turned around towards my computer. "Athena, are there any messages for me while I'm gone?" It looks like the servers between here and the nearest outpost is secure +3+, at least.

"Over 38,652, and updating," she answered.

I pulled up a chair. Ooh! This is comfy. Almost forgot that the earth is in brink of destruction. "Sort: importance." Those are a lot of reds in my inbox. I think I need another color for 'very important.' I moused over the first on the list. "Let's see here."

A squadron of our fighters were grounded due to super-storms +4+, weapons shipment has been delayed for a week on some base at Malaysia, an air transport over the Atlantic crash landed, all survived; troopers at the outpost Ecuador got in a brawl, many wounded; Mei something-something needs an increase of budget for an ice machine, warnings about imminent earthquakes in the Saudis, and the rest are a chore.

"Give them the usual, Athena," I commanded.

"At once, sir." Athena is going to write all the replies for all red-leveled messages for me. The usual being to tell the people that I'm observing closely to all situations and that they should persevere whatever circumstances that comes in their way. For those who need money, I'll just tell them that we're already tight on everything, that we can't spare the resources, and that they should wait. Adding that I'll do my damnedest to get more funding. Which I don't hope for much. We lost a ship full of pirates in the Gulf last week, and a lot of big boys are frowning on our capabilities.

"What else is new?" I scrolled down to the yellow messages. As I expected, almost all of the messages are about the situations on the missions I dispatched. Most are successes as always, lots of notices of delays, and some are aborted. I gave Athena the green to congratulate the troops who completed their tasks while inspiring vigilance who's still waiting for their turn. I concentrated on the aborted ones.

"Hmm…" I cupped my chin as I read the details of each mission. For the most part, the reasons for mission terminations ranged from key officers getting injured during mission training, malfunctioning equipment and bad weather. The ones that got my attention unnerved me. HVT's (High Valued Targets) gone missing, AA (Anti-Air) emplacements appearing from nowhere, and high levels of resistance appearing without a source.

"Athena," I called. "Store and notify my staff on these following operations. Mainly on operations Scarred Home, Hot Cable, Soaring Umbrella, and Water Box." We worked day and night to plan these ops. I can't let it go so easily.

"Sending…"

I massaged my temples. "And can someone get me more intel on this Talon situation?"

"We are still pending on results, commander."

"Dammit, Lacroix," I mumbled under my breath. "I trusted you on this mess." Was he the right man for the job? Screw it! If I don't get any results within a week, I'll make sure he'll get his pay at the armory. Torbjorn has been asking for new slaves after all.

"You seemed stress. Is there anything I can do to assist?"

I looked up at my empty glass. "How about some food?"

"I'll send one in immediately."

"Uh-huh." I scrolled down to the greens and below for fun's sake. News reporters asking for interviews, dinner date with some president, people suing me for some crap where I'm not involved (good luck with that), people who's claiming that I got them pregnant and that they want child support (GOOD LUCK WITH THAT), and tons of death threats. I read some of them for some good laughs. Never knew that there were thousands of variations of 'kill yourself'.

I read one out loud. "Look yourself in the mirror, punch it, pick up a large shard and slit your wrist. Long and deep." I sighed "Lame." They're losing their touch. "Athena, can you be a dear and clean this mess?"

"Any exceptions?"

"Just trash them all. All of it." And from there forth, all of the unwanted mails got dumped in the recycle bin. In there were trash ranging from eBooks talking about the exploits of Overwatch, requesting for endorsements (do I know these people?) to dick pics.

"Commander, may I remind you that the deadline on reviewing our-"

"New recruits," I finished, catching another migraine when I was beginning to relax. "I get it. Can we just, I don't know…" I moused over the folder containing the hundreds of potentials that have finished evaluation. "…give it another week? Give the guys time to narrow it down a little?"

"Everyone is waiting for you, sir. You're the last one that has yet to give the green light."

"I'm beginning to wish we have those face-to-face interviews," I mumbled.

"If that is the case, we could arrange an interview session right no-"

I flailed my hands. "Nononono, NO!" I take it back. Those interviews took forever back then. "What I mean is, we have to be careful on choosing our next members. I'm, uh…" What's the word again? "I'm looking for, you know, experience. Yeah, experience! Overwatch needs those men who were baptized by fire, and no amount of training could prepare them with what lies ahead in our faithful organization." Smooth moves, Jack. I'm starting to fall in love with you again.

"Sir, all of the candidates have been to multiple engagements, with commendations." Oh, crap.

"Athena, the point is, uh…" Think, Jack, think! I can't just tell her that I forgot to review the recruits the whole week. Well, 'forgot' may be inaccurate. I straight up ignored it. For a week.

"…Yes?"

"That point being…" I squeezed the chair handles, nearly bending them. If all else fails, I could always say my mind. "Do you know why I want a formal interview?"

"Yes."

Silence. Wasn't what I'm expecting. I coughed. "Thing is, we don't take people into Overwatch this quickly. There's a process, a formal one. I can't just take some random dude in because they got probed in the ass well, no matter how good an eye the evaluator has. We needed the opinions of everyone, even if it's just core members +5+, and then vote on it."

"But as a core member and the leader, the responsibility falls to you. And we can't call the others back unless it's an emergency."

"No, we can't," I admitted. "That point being… I'm not _enough_ to give the call for these men, regardless of how eager they are, and regardless of my authority."

Silence "Processing. Processing. I may understand an aspect of it, but that does not push the deadline any further. If it helps, why don't you select a few for this time being? With that, I can ensure you a couple of days so you could clear your mind."

I smiled. "Thank you, Athena." I scrolled down the first eight on my list. They all look promising so far, above average combat prowess and quick on the feet. But more than that, these guys have engineering expertise. Overwatch sorely needs a batch of these guys to overlook our outposts around the globe. "There. Tell them not to hurry."

Silence, again. "No Omnics?"

I massaged my temples, harder. "What is it this time?"

"Nothing, sir. An excellent choice, nonetheless. I was merely… disappointed. A little. It could always help close the rift between the men of Overwatch."

"Athena, my decision's final. I appreciate the advice, but don't go stepping out of the line like that."

"My apologies, sir. I will not do it again."

Sighing, I propped up my feet on the table and let my eyes rest. I get it on what's Athena going about. It's been years now since we integrated Omnics into our forces, mostly due to political matters rather than bolstering our numbers. If human and robot are to cooperate in the future, someone has to make an example, meaning us.

The first months sure were the funniest. I smiled a bit when I remembered Raj attempted to sabotage Athena's subsystems when he felt that his usefulness to the team was nearing its end. Raj is a good man. Smart, always anticipating the things I need and want ahead of time. Athena couldn't do that, even if it tries to. Besides, there's no replacement out there for a good friend.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Athena. I'm only looking out for the organization's needs."

"I understand, sir." I have a feeling that it doesn't.

I rubbed my neck. "Can you check on the food? What are they serv-"

"Sir! We have a report of an intruder somewhere in the building!"

"What?" That got me up.

"I advise you to stay in the office, sir. We have no idea who they're target is."

I never predicted an attack would be coming, but they have some balls coming in through daylight. "Where the hell are the guards?" On my feet, I pulled up my Infinity Pistol +6+ and checked if I have the proper settings. I'll settle for good ol' fashion single shots.

"They're already moving to the scene, but they said they do not know what to do."

"Useless…" I cursed lowly. I moved into the middle of the room so I could have more space. "Tell me you got the agents."

"Already called them. They are all moving in to secure high-profile personnel." At least they got one thing right.

I kept my eyes open, gun at the ready. I flicked my aim up to the office's only entrance when it slid open, but I lowered it when I saw Raj sweaty face. "Report?" I asked.

He saluted. "Sir, we don't know who or where the enemy is. It must be a really small force to elude detection." An elite kill team, huh?

"Can you get the evacuation on the way?" I asked. My image demands that I should voice out a concern for the people, of course.

He shook his head. "Our highest priority is you, sir. Reinhardt is on his way, and the rest are clearing a path. You'll have to stay here while we search for anything hostile, but we'll let you know as soon as we're certain."

I nodded. "You do that." And with that, he closed the door, leaving me alone. I turned around towards Athena. "Can you tell me where they're coming from? Where their access point is?"

"Still scanning the camera feeds. We only have eyewitnesses, so the details can be sketchy. It appears that the intruder is… rappelling down from the windows."

A cold sweat formed on my back. "Can you repea-"

I heard a loud thud behind me. Leaping into action, I rolled behind my table and readied my pistol at the window. Between my iron sights is a… is a little girl.

A middle schooler, I think, is hanging on a rope against the glass, which I'm surprised that she can still hang on until I saw the safety harness she's wearing. Her face is hard pressed on it, giving me a weird look akin to a bug on a windshield. She doesn't seem to be armed or anything. Her backpack behind her could be big enough to hold a pistol or a small bomb, but her face tells me her intentions bodes no ill will. Only a slight fear and mostly embarrassment.

Now, she's slowly being dragged by the wind like a human wiper, and all I could think is… wow. Either the masterminds of my assassination are desperate, cruel, or lobotomized.

"There is the intruder!" Athena shouted. "Shoot it! Shoot it before it shoots you! Make them pay with blood! Spray the city with their intestines +7+!"

"You can stop now," I said as I stood up, pressing my temples.

"Send them a message that Overwatch is not to be trifled with!"

"Stop." I hurried to the window before she gets blown away. I can't let someone fall to their deaths while I'm on the scene. "Just hold on!" I shouted, even though it's for naught. There's no way for me to reach her unless I break the window. I could go upstairs to find where she's hanging on, but I don't think we have the time. Screw it! I'll pay for a broken window rather than let the girl die. "Athena, warn everyone from the ground about falling glass."

"Are you trying to help the enemy?"

"No." I set my pistol to automatic.

"Are you a traitor?"

"No!" I aimed a few feet down of the teenager's feet. I began spewing out hot pulse rounds on the glass, leaving hot red holes.

"A traitor would say that."

"Oh my God, Athena! I'm trying to save an innocent girl!" After it was ready, I fired again. I repeated the process until I have a red circle. "Have you at least warned the people downstairs?"

"Uh, yes. They have cleared the area. I was forced to use your credentials to expedite the process."

I nodded. "I can leave with that." Straining my body, I lifted my leg and gave the glass a heavy kick. Web cracks formed, but it's not going to fall off soon. It took me three more kicks before the glass circle was blown away to wherever it needs to go.

Raising my arms from the sudden gust, the high altitude winds caused my coat to dance wildly. By the time it rescinds, I slowly moved forward and popped my head out. "H-hello, sir!" she nervously said, giving me a slight salute. "I was just-"

"Later!" I shouted through the gale. "Just come on down! Slowly!" I stretched out my arm while pulling myself from the hole's edges, avoiding the red, with the other. The girl began climbing down from her rope. "Yeah, right here!" I tried to touch the sole of her shoe so she could steady herself.

Instead, she dropped suddenly and stepped on my face. "Sorry, sir!"

"Not a problem." It only hurts when it hits on my nose. "Just… just get over—I said, here!" We both struggle; the girl ended up sitting on my shoulders and squeezing my throat with her legs. That doesn't matter to me since I got her secured. "Okay," I said through my strangled voice. "Let go… of the rope."

"Yessir!" she said and unknotted her harness. Once we got her unhooked, I yanked back into the room and heard another thud. "Ow!" she cried out.

"Sorry about that," I apologized as I completed my impromptu rescue mission. "At least now, we're even. Let me take a look at that." Unhooking her legs, carried her down to the couch. I seethed in sympathy as I saw her raven black hair smoking. She must've hit her head on the molten edge, and by the looks of her tears, it looks rather painful.

"Oooh! Owie, ow, ow!"

I patted her head to get rid of the little cinder, a few loose hair falling away, and said, "Oh, don't worry about that. It didn't touch your skin. It'll grow back." It was superficial at best. Some scars at worst. "It was very dangerous of you to do that kind of stunt. What were you thinking?"

She whimpered and sniffed. "I only wanted **–hic-** to see Overwatch, sir." Holy crap. Is this how much our fans devolved into?

"Why so you keep calling me 'sir'?"

She sniffed, calming down. "Mother said that you should address your superior officers sir, sir." But you're a civilian.

Sighing, I brushed her tears away and saw a good look of her dark hazel bloodshot eyes. "Anyways, that doesn't mean the stuff you did out there… makes things…" I peered into her eyes. Cupping my chin, I thought hard and well on how familiar those eyes were. Like I saw it many times… "…What was your name again?"

She looks down for a while before she faced me. "My name is Alya Khalifa… but…"

"Yes?" I urged her.

"…They told me not to tell, but you're Commander Morrison, right sir?"

I swept my arms, bowed and did a quick smile. "In the flesh. Whatever your secret it is, they have to kill me before anyone else could learn about it." I'll kill them all first before they kill me. "So hit me."

She looked down again, twiddled her thumbs and breathed in her courage. "My name is Fareeha-"

"Amari!" I said, laughing at the terrible situation I'm in.

She smiled too, her eyes shining in admiration. "Y-you know me?"

I was still chuckling like crazy, away from her. I can't get that chill out of my spine. "You have no idea."

+1+ Apparently, his enhanced resistance to extreme temperatures does not ease his discomfort to it.

+2+ Even if he wants to, Jack Morrison can't get intoxicated due to his unique physique.

+3+ Overwatch has their very own internet to share information from. No lags whatsoever.

+4+ With decades of unkempt pollution, super-storms started forming all over the globe. Winds on average of 150 mph, these super-storms have been devastating for those who are unequipped dealing with it. Nowadays, with the advancement of civil engineering and architecture, the super-storms are nothing more than a nuisance as long as you remain indoors.

+5+ Morrison, Reinhart, Amari, Lindholm, etc.

+6+ Exclusive only to the commander of Overwatch himself, the Infinity Pistol fires twenty pulse rounds in rapid succession and has no need to be reloaded or, at least, does not reload in practical sense, hence the name. It's not as powerful compared to the HPR because of its low power consumption, and it does not fire as infinitely as it describes. Think of it as it is of a rechargeable battery, which the power diminishes in each 'reload'. This specialized power cell must be replaced once a week under the assumption that the pistol never saw use in that period. Nowadays, the gun is called Pulse Pistol and is wielded by ex-Overwatch agent Tracer.

+7+ The only explanation for its behavior is that Omnics does not have luxury of extended human conversations. Athena can be straight and concise when it calls for, but in the heat of battle, its natural environment, sometimes it could get out of hand.

* * *

"But it could be a hostage situation in there!" I heard Raj's muffled cries next at the other side of the door.

"Which makes it imperative that we breach now!" replied Reinhardt.

"We are not risking it! My plan is we contain the building and hit every inch of this place with sleeping gas."

"It'll be too late by then. The VTOL (Vertical Take-Off and Landing) will be ten minutes in. We breach now, and contain the commander and the assailant. They won't get away unless they jump out of the window."

I rubbed my face while I stood next to the door. Normally, I'd find this funny. But because of the pinch I'm on, I can't even find myself smiling. "But what if they do? How are you going to explain that?"

"If they want Jack dead, they have done it by now, or at least they'd do it far away."

"But-"

"No buts! I'm taking command as senior officer, so everyone fall in line. We're breaching in three! One…"

I opened the door with a straight face and crossed my arms. The most obvious in my view is Reinhardt all decked out with his olive green Crusader Armor and his barrier field shortened to accommodate the door span. Raj held was right behind him with his rifle at the ready. Five more agents were on his tail, and a bit further than that were SWAT teams.

They were all looking at me dumbly with their mouths agape. I let this moment sink in.

"S-sir?" Raj fumbly said.

"Reinhardt, cut the shield." He did so. "Raj, lower that gun." He obeyed. "All of you." Even the SWAT followed. "You two," I pointed at Reinhart and Raj. "Get in my office, now. The rest? Dismissed. Tell everyone we're in the green." They all stood there. "MOVE IT!"

As soon as Raj slid and locked the door, Reinhardt immediately asked, "Was it that bloody?"

"What?" I asked back as I paced across the office, steeling my nerves.

"The body," he clarified while Raj investigated the obvious hole on my window. "It was a good call to prevent the public eye from seeing the mess you made. We all have our days that we've gone overboard at our kills, but-"

I raised my head. "What? No, no, no. It's much worse than you think." He raised an eyebrow.

"Who did this?" Raj asked, observing the cooling glass.

I raised my hand. "I did."

"Ah!" Reinhardt said, admiration flickering his eyes. "You got a live one…" His skin paled. "Is he one of ours? A traitor?"

"The commander is the traitor!" Athena blared.

"Thank you for your input, Athena!" I replied, placing my fists on my hips. I looked at both of them. "Men, what I'm about to share is something that should never leave this room. Ever. Got it?"

"Affirmative, sir," Raj supported me with a nod.

"You have my word," Reinhardt joined, standing tall.

I closed my eyes to focus for one moment before I called her out. "You can come out now!"

From the comfort room, the door slid open. A bandaged head popped out, swiveling her head out until it locked in on the big guy. "Are you Reinhardt?!" she gasped. Like a puppy out of a basket, she bounded out of the CR and went for him. "Woah, is that _the_ Crusader armor? I've only seen it in military magazines! C-can I… can I touch it?"

Reinhardt's shocked face melted into compassion as he kneeled down to her reach. He showed his metallic biceps, making the little girl oohing and aahing as she caressed the neo-steel surface.

"This is the intruder?" he asked me, eyeing on her cute expression. "She almost looks like…" I recognize the face of fear any day. He betrayed his shocked face as soon as he realized.

I could hear a thud behind me. Turning around, Raj was up against the wall, sweating profusely and jabbing his finger at the girl. "Sh-she-she-sh-she's-th-tha-th-that-"

"Amari's kid," I finished his bare sentence. Reinhardt couldn't move as if the little puppy before him turned into a landmine. Actually, a landmine pales in comparison when Ana finds out.

"Yeah!" Fareeha said. "She's amazing, right?"

Reinhardt stutters with a crooked smile. "Sh-she's an excellent soldier. One of the best I've ever served with." As a soldier? Absolutely. As a human being? That's up for debate.

She only beamed in pride at the mere mention of her mother.

We left her in front of my computer so she could play games there. The three of us huddled in a corner, keeping our voices low. "How did she get here?" Reinhardt asked on my right, his mustache bristling. Raj, on my left, looked like he's in his deathbed.

"She applied on a tour here in Diamond Hotel when she heard we were coming +1+. Apparently, she was unsatisfied with the tour when she can't even meet us, like the others who came with the same notion. Her backup plan was to bring a rope and harness, climb into the vents, and drop down into my office. She's their school's best mountain climber."

"But what about her caretaker?" Raj reasoned out. "He couldn't have allowed this to happen."

"You know I don't have that kind of information," I replied, and we all looked down. We knew that Overwatch is a big job with big risks. Not only us, but our family and friends as well. When we were recruited, those who are close to us were forced to change their name, their address, everything. If anybody can afford it, they could change their faces as well if necessary.

With that in mind, they also have their own _caretakers_ as well. They could be close friends with combat experience or distant relatives. We assign them the task to protect our loved ones while we're on the mission, and are only relieved when we're on leave. It's a huge sacrifice, but they understand. Whoever these guys are, it's only our information to bear, and not even I, the head honcho of the organization, could know about it.

And for Fareeha's case, anyone with a grudge against Overwatch would love to get their hands on her.

"Have you called the lieutenant?" Raj asked. "Oh, wait. We can't just call her! She'll tear our balls off if we do!"

"We'll have to inform her one way or the other," Reinhardt countered. "We need her to set up a meeting with the caretaker in secret and make a drop off. Problem is who's going to make the drop?"

We all looked at each other. We are all public figures, Raj included, so we can't trust this on ourselves unless we want to be found. "This is a job for Blackwatch," I concluded. The other two nodded. This is _way_ out of our capabilities to deal with, and we need a lot of discretion if we're going to survive this. Blackwatch may be our only chance to save this situation.

"First in the list," Raj began, "what are we going to tell to the others? There's been an intruder alert and we need an explanation for that. We can't say you blew a hole in your office because there's a ghost, right?"

"I'll take care of it," Reinhardt offered. "The men trust me, so we have that one covered. To be honest, our main problem is how we are going to get her out of the building. I've checked the security and I can confidently say that they didn't slack on it, especially when they heard _you're_ coming."

"I'll tell Gabe to send his best men, then," I answered. "I've already sent a mail to him, so we should all be ready tomorrow. I'll be filling them in once they arrive. I expected that some heads would be turning into our direction when the alarm set, which is why I asked Athena to check Alya out after the tour ended. Also, it's keeping an eye out for the potential caretaker. His entire life is in the balance if he can't find his client after all."

"Who's going to talk to Ana?" Raj nervously asked. "We can't just ask her daughter to give her caretaker's phone number. We don't know if his mode of communication is secured. We need Ana to relay the message."

I furrowed my brows. "I'll do it." They both sighed in relief. "Don't be like that! I'm taking the bullet here."

Reinhardt squeezed my shoulder +2+. "And we all appreciate your sacrifice. A gallant effort like the knights of old."

"You are truly the greatest leader Overwatch ever has," Raj said with a thumb up. "My family will speak for generations for this."

"Shut up, you virgin," I said. I feel like I'm going to pop a vein. "You'll never get a girl +3+." Raj was beet red embarrassed while Reinhardt is in the verge on rolling over the floor laughing. "I'm actually sad for you guys though." They both all stopped at once. "This is why I called you two. I'm going to keep Fareeha in the presidential suite, and one of you is going to keep a lookout over there until tomorrow. There's going to be food and-"

"I need to check my men!" Reinhardt suddenly blurted out and began moving to the exit.

"Wait!" I cried out. I tried pulling his shoulder to keep him in place, but I'm slowly being overpowered. "You can't just-"

"It was nice meeting you, fraulein!" He waved at her as if I didn't exist. "I'll send you a poster of me with my autograph!"

"You have a good day, mister!" Fareeha replied from my table.

I pulled my hands away before the sliding doors could bite them. Sighing in defeat, I looked at Raj. "At least you'll-"

"I have papers to work out, and a press conference to arrange," he quickly said, moving to the entrance. I stopped him. We both shifted left and right. He's trying to find an opening, but I won't left him. He then pointed at something and shouted, "She's going to fall!"

"What?!" I turned towards Fareeha, but she looks engrossed on the computer to be of any danger.

Exploiting this confusion, Raj pushed me aside and ran like the wind. "I'm sorry, sir! But I want to live!"

"If you won't follow my orders, then you will follow into the firing line!" I shouted at him as he got away. Dammit! Is Overwatch surrounded by cowards and traitors? How am I going to lead by example when even my closest friends would betray me?!

"Is everything okay, sir?" Fareeha asked from behind.

Huffing, I turned around to see her worried face. Whether I like it or not, I'm going to be stuck with her for the rest of the night, so you better damn smile for her, Jack. "If I'm honest, it's not. There's a lot of complications when you came in here."

She got off the chair and tightened her bag. "Then I can go out of your way, sir. It's nice meeting you."

I blocked her way. "We can't do that. You raised a lot of alarms on your way in, so I won't be surprised if our enemies would be keeping an eye over us. It's not safe for you to go out there now. They could follow you on your way home, and we don't want that happening."

"But you guys are Overwatch. Can't you just, I don't know, fight them?"

I shook my head. "We don't know even who they are. Spies are everywhere and we can't just arrest them for looking +4+. I'm really sorry, Fareeha, but you have to stay."

"B-but… I have school tomorrow. Mother is going to be mad."

I held her shoulder. "You have to understand the situation we are in. And Ana will be even angrier if I don't keep you here." She'll be angry regardless of what I do.

Her eyes are darting everywhere. "But, I… I… okay." She bowed down in defeat. "I'm sorry that I caused you trouble, sir."

I squeezed her shoulder and gave her a warm smile. "Hey, if it makes you feel better, think of it like a field trip. I could tell you a few war stories."

"Really?!" she asked, rejuvenated at last.

"Yeah. It's the least I could do." I just have to omit some details, of course.

"Can you tell me more about Overwatch?"

"What, you want to be an agent some day?"

"It's my dream!" Her eyes glimmered in hope.

"Well, if you can pull off the criteria, I might recommend you myself." Fat chance. I can't just tolerate favoritism in the organization. It's company policy for crying out loud. "Oh yeah, there's a lot of stuff I could tell you about your mom." She flinched at the mere mention of her mother. I laughed a little to ease the tensions. "Don't worry about school. Your guardian would just tell your teacher that you're calling in sick."

"It's not that, it's… N-never mind." Good, because I don't want to talk about any of this in the first place. "So… when can we start?"

+1+ The Diamond Hotel is a hotel and a museum at the same time. Before there was a building, the site used to be a battlefield in the first few months of the Omnic Crisis, and it is also where the Overwatch team formed. By the end of the war, it was quoted that the field is 'cropped with diamonds' as the massive amounts of Omnic husks glimmered and littered under the sunlight, hence the name.

+2+ He learned his handling of the armor enough to apply the correct pressure. He broke enough hands in handshakes and backs in congratulatory pats to know why.

+3+ Raj Chadha nowadays has eighteen sons and daughters.

+4+ Spying and stalking are still crimes on their own, but you can catch what Jack is getting at.

* * *

"You better have a good reason for this call, sir," Ana sternly warned as soon as she picked up. "The operation will pick up in less than an hour, so please be concise."

One of these days, I need to remind her that I'm of higher rank. "Oh, I will, lieutenant. I'm calling in because I have your daughter in my office."

Silence. "Can you repeat that? I couldn't quite catch it." Her tone sent icicles down my back.

"Your daughter, Fareeha?" My voice is slightly echoing in the restroom confines. "She's in my office right now and a lot of people are staring into our way. I need you to call your caretaker so we could arrange a meeting in secret."

"This better be a damn joke, commander. Or else we're going to have problems." No need to make a threat. The moment she raised her voice is enough information to know that I'm threading on thin ice.

"Look, can I—I'll send you a picture." I opened the door and opened my camera application. "Fareeha? Fareeha, can you look over here for a second?"

"What for, sir?" she asked, looking up from her tablet at the couch.

"It's for your mother, Fareeha. Come on, smile for the camera."

"M-mom?"

"She just wants to know if you're okay. Come on. Give her a nice smile. There, there, show a little teeth. Aaaaand, got it! Thanks a lot, soldier!"

She waved at me goodbye as I went back into the restroom. "You see it now? Ana? Ana, are you there?"

There was a long silence. "Wh-why does she have a bandage on her head?" I never heard her speak so fast too.

"It's not anything permanent." I can't tell her it was my fault. "Don't wo-"

"Don't you dare tell me to not worry!" Okay, this is getting out of hand. "You have no right! Right before a big op, and you have to drop this on my lap?!"

"It's not my fa-"

"SHUT IT!" I did so. I waited for a whole minute before she spoke again. "C-commander?"

Uh oh. I never heard her being apologetic before either. "Y-yes?"

"Please, commander… please keep her safe." I'm getting real scared with this new tone she's imposing on me. "I could only trust on you on her security, sir." This much of respect of rank and person tells me that the world had gone upside down. "Because if… if anything happens… If you let her get hurt more than it is now… I WON'T REST UNTIL YOU BEG FOR ME TO KILL YOU NO-"

I ended the call right there. She'll come around.

"Good news, Fareeha!" I said as I exited the call from the devil. She was in front of my computer this time, typing something. She looked up to see me. "Your mother's back to normal!"


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes, I admire the things going around the swamp. From prey to predator, the algae and moss to insects, the insects to everything with a mouth, I could relate to all of it. Especially when there's a bunch of jet totting kids who think they could catch me. I admire the swamp, the algae and the insects because even with everything here can prey on them, they still survive.

The moss have deadly poisons and bacteria, the insects have stingers and pathways. Me? I have camouflage. Painting my body with mud, I was nigh invisible to the naked eye. Problem now is that I need to move patiently, or else they'll notice the trudging mud monster armed with an empty rifle.

Damn Pharah. She made this supply pickup all for nothing. Also, she and her buddies gave me a good bruising with their beanbag rounds +1+. The most important part is that I got away alive. My personal anguish for my freedom. You can't beat that trade. Although I'm not out of the woods yet, I'm confident that I could get to my mini-sub and sneak right under their noses.

But before that, I need to settle some business.

"76," Gory chimed in. "Are you sure you want to go this way? I have set up waypoints that are both easy to traverse and concealed enough."

"Scan for disturbances on the water," I ordered, keeping my gait small. "Stragg used a fanboat through here. I can tell from the broken roots and branches on this side."

My armor shivered. "What? Why?"

"Let's just say we owe each other something." I'm going to repay it, of course. It's the least I could do.

"We could arrange another meeting with Stragg once we escape," it suggested.

I shook my head. "We're talking about Helix here. No matter where you slice it, he's in grave danger unless we could find him first."

"If you say so. I'll mark your HUD (Head-Up Display)." With that said, my view lit up with an unbearable amount of information. I could read all of them, but I know when too much is too much.

"Noise only." The horizon blanketed in red. "Narrow it down to mechanical/diesel." The red shrunk to a circled area, moving slowly. It's pretty wide, but for me, it's perfect.

"You can't expect to walk over there. He's on a high speed boat after all."

I slugged through the gelatinous mud. "And you can't escape through patrols of jet men with a boat either. He wouldn't be in the arms business if he doesn't have any escape routes."

"Ah!" Gory said, realizing at last. "So we're going to hijack his ride?"

"Correct." Although, that's not the only thing I want from him. I ducked down as soon as I heard jet engines.

"We have to find his parking space first, though."

I chuckled. "Leave it to me."

It took half an hour of listening and tracking to confirm that I was heading to the right direction. I heard one of the flyers popping rockets somewhere in the swamp and hitting something. My sensors say that the boat is gone. If I know him, Stragg would be smarter than to ride at the open. Wherever he's going, I'll follow.

On the way there, I stopped just in time when one of the flyboys landed in front of me. He seems to be busy about his suit that it gave me enough time to blend into the environment. I don't know why I keep pointing my rifle at him when I knew there's no batteries in it. Maybe it's just the nerves. Maybe it's instinct. Now that I think about it, this thing could be a really good smacking stick.

"Yes… yes," the trooper said in front of me. "I'm running a diagnostic scan right now." Just leave already, will ya? "Hold up. I need to do this manually." Guess I'll have to wax my patience for now.

He kneeled down and carefully removed his jetpack from his back. I don't know how the Mark IV works, but he's either taking his time or doesn't know how to fix his own assigned equipment. Judging by the cursing and fumbling, I'd bet on the latter. "Come on, come on. Most advance military arms, my ass. Is this… wait—What?

"No, ma'am, I'm still down. My thrusters aren't even or something like that. I kept listing to the right. Pickup? No need. Don't need that noise on my transcript… I can handle this… No, there's no hostiles in vicinity. I checked." Liar. "Yes, ma'am. I'll zoom there as soon as I'm finished… Over and out." He stretched his back. "This looks fine. This looks fine… Where is it? Huh, well—Agh! My capacitor!"

A little black box jumped out of his palms. I have no idea the importance of it +2+, but the thing is coming towards me. I stayed still as it plopped on the mud. It was light enough to stay afloat atop the wet earth, and it's just a few feet away from me! Think statues, 76. Think statues.

The Helix trooper followed the trajectory until he was at spitting distance. He kneeled down, mumbling, "This is the worst day of my…" His visor slowly rose to mine, and I knew the jig is up.

We both reacted at the same time. He backed away, reaching for his pistol while I jabbed my rifle's muzzle forward. A smile crept on my lips as I felt his visor cracking at the strike. I followed it up with a quick step in and a rifle stock to the gut. I was surprised when he punched back at the side of my head. I should've known better to use blunt objects against armor plating.

I was down at the ground, shaking my head to loosen up the swirls on my eyes. "B-backup!" he shouted in his comms whilst pulling up his pistol and firing at me. I rolled over the muddy floor right after the first shot. He can't possibly miss me at this range, but then again, I'm not wearing a busted helmet. "I need back—Augh!" With a quick recovery, I tackled him to the mud with me.

Holding him down with a chokehold, he kicked furiously, desperate to escape my arms. Even the strongest and healthiest man out there would take ten seconds to pass out if the hold is firm. The constant elbowing makes it a painful ten seconds though.

Ballistic rounds rained around me in earthly thuds as I finished my business here. The Orgone Barrier stopped a few, flashing out a bright green light upon impact. "Good job, Gory!" I said as I sprinted towards the Raptora jetpack.

"76, wait!" Gory shouted as I lifted the pack. "You'll break your shoulders if you fly without a suit +3+!"

"Who say's I'm going to fly?"

I carried the jetpack deeper into the swamp. The jet warriors landed around the area, but it looks like they lost sight of me. For now, I focused on my task. It didn't take long to find a sturdy log in here. It's a little heavy, but the most important part is that it's as thick as a man and still has at least two branches. I unzipped my jacket and clothed the piece of wood. After prettying up the wood that would make the ultimate sacrifice, I gave it the honor on donning the Raptora Mark IV.

"Any luck on your end?" I asked Gory as I angled the log.

"Just giving it the finishing touches," Gory replied proudly. "Give the word, soldier." It giggled. I backed away while smearing my newly exposed parts with mud. "Eww!" Gory exclaimed as I started to cover the armor's luster.

"Don't be a baby." Once we're out of the way, I ordered, "Fire."

The engines roared to life, giving the log a short thrust up before kicking in the afterburners. I heard the engines before, but not this up close. It's almost unbearable. For some reason, it's spewing out electricity +4+. Doesn't matter now. It was a successful liftoff and it forced almost every Helix trooper around the area to give chase. A few stayed, probably in charge to find their unfortunate buddy. Whatever the case, they're too far away to notice me making my escape.

Ah… the roar of the Raptora. Why was it called Raptora again?

+1+ Gory registered the projectiles to be non-lethal; therefore, it passed through the barrier in an effort to conserve energy. Beanbags are stillpainful though.

+2+ If he has a missing capacitor in his jet pack, then the next time he attempts to start his engine, a lightning bolt will shoot out to strike the nearest conductor. For example, the wearer.

+3+ If he dares to take off without the design-specific suit, the launch alone would have his spine liquefied, and the landing has the power, given his weight plus the jetpack, of a pound of C4. Although, this is Soldier: 76 we are talking about. His bones were enhanced for a reason, right?

+4+ See +2+.

* * *

"They were desperate on coming up with a cool name," I theorized as me and Fareeha faced the glass case containing something I thought was lost. "Or maybe they don't want to be confused with the F-22 Raptor."

"I can't believe you actually wore one of these!" she gushed, pressing her nose on the glass. "Oh, man. It's like the one from the movie +1+! I saw one downstairs, but I've never got to see one up close. This is so cool!"

"The one at the ground floor is a replica. This one," I began, pointing at the plaque, "is _the_ original Raptora A2 that I wore that day." I never got to see the suit this close before too, just as elegant as a refrigerator. It's dented all over the place and the some of dark anti-luster paint was burnt off with jet fuel. Ah, yes. Traumatic times.

She gasped. "Really?!" This girl has been asking so much about Overwatch that if this continues, I might accidentally give up my clearance codes to her at the end of the night.

I chuckled. "Yeah. Some… prospectors," almost called them looters, "dug it out from an Omnic graveyard. They saw my ID number etched on it, got it confirmed, and now it's here." Also, they became instant millionaires. "For historical purposes." I cringed inwardly at the thought, remembering the ceremony. They acted as if they excavated a forgotten pharaoh's tomb.

My other big concern, why is this _precious_ _artifact_ displayed here in the presidential suite anyway? What is the purpose +2+? Masturbation material? At least the room is quite luxurious. Maintained the eggshell green paint, marble flooring, Nara wood furniture, pure silk sheets and a king-size bed medically designed by a Dr. Kenji Nakamura.

Too bad I can't enjoy sleeping on it. Ana would kill me a thousand times +3+ if I let her kid sleep on the couch.

She raised her arm. "Umm, sir?"

I placed my hands on my hips. "You don't have to call me 'sir'."

"Yessir!" Well, I have enough numbskulls calling me sir. Why not another one? "I was wondering what's it like. You know, flying?"

I kneeled down and grabbed her shoulder. "It's an experience of a lifetime." More accurately, it's like soaring through the sky in your very own coffin. A burning coffin.

Her eyes glimmered again. "Woah! D-do you get to learn how to ride jetpacks in Overwatch too?"

I rubbed my chin. "We… we got test pilots, but all of the latest suits aren't safe unless you're a gorilla." She looked down. "B-but we have the best engineers working hard for that. Hey, in five years, Overwatch is going to be training a regiment of jumpers. You could wait five years, right?" I winked and that got her hopes up.

"Weeeell, if that don't work out for me, I could sign up for infantry. Oh, wait! Maybe I could be a sniper! You need some snipers, right?" We have too much of both, actually.

I patted her head, stood up and laughed. "Eager for battle, aren't we. Remember, Overwatch is a _peacekeeping_ force, occasionally a peacemaker, but not a war maker." Pulling out my handkerchief, I cleaned the glass where Fareeha rubbed her oily nose.

"I know that!" she pouted and crossed her arms. "I'll just wait for robots to rise up so we could beat them up again."

"What did she say?" Athena asked from the computer across the room.

I laughed nervously. "She's just… she's a kid, Athena. You know what kids say nowadays, right? One time, a boy asked me if I quick scoped somebody."

"Did you?" Fareeha asked. "Was it a real 360-"

"You're not helping," I said through my teeth.

"Children are just animals you cannot not eat," Athena reasoned out +4+.

"Those are pets, Athena." I turned to Fareeha. "Any more questions?"

She raised her arms. "Oooh! Oooh!" What are you? A monkey?

I sighed but still kept the smile on. "Yes?"

"What was the Battle of Giza like? Was it like in the movie?"

I scratched the back of my head. "The movie got some of them wrong, but in the meat of it, it's pretty much like that." The OG's (Original Generation) have to keep quiet on what we think of the movie +5+.

She tilted her head. "Like what?" And then her eyes lit up. "Oh, oh!" An owl now? "Can you tell me the whole story? Like, like firsthand experience?"

"Well, it's going to be a long night anyways." I started my way to the couch. "Hmm… where to start?" I sat and started untying my boots.

"Why not the best part?" She hopped and bounced at the couch. "You know, the part you got shot down and you have to fight a thousand bots on your own and-"

"Let's not get carried away," I pointed out. I placed my boots on the side and propped my legs on the coffee table in front of me. "Why not start with the beginning, okay?" she nodded eagerly. I stretched my back. "It was another revolution. Omnics in North Africa were dissatisfied with the treaty. They gathered up weapons and started marching north. That was when Overwatch was called." I craned my neck back. "You okay I tell this story, Athena?"

"History is history, sir. Only thing we could do now is to accept it." Well, that's a good answer as any.

"Anyways," I continued. "They said it's going to be the Second Omnic Crisis. It would've gone global without our intervention. Plus, the org is still green. It was going to be two years since my promotion to Strike-Commander and a lot of people still have doubts. My men included. Achieving a victory here not only would save lives, but it would also clear away any doubts and strengthen our position in a global scale.

"Their main weakness back then was the lack of organization and discipline. Taking that in consideration, the plan was to destroy an Omnics communications hub. We do that, we'll strip away all of their combat effectiveness and they'll realize on what kind of mess they are in. And if they do fight, it's going to be one sided." Fareeha was listening intently. "It was a twenty man mission. Because there was a drought of combat ready agents that time, I need to participate there physically.

"Me and my second in command Reyes are tasked to jump into the enemy compound with the experimental Raptora A2 and clear a landing zone for our copters. We were the only two who could survive a jet ride and it's been a long time since I lead from the front." Also, I needed to win their respect at one point. "Ana, your mother, and a marksman detachment, which she personally trained, will provide sniper support from the flanks while Reinhardt and Torbjorn are in charge of the secondary LZ in case the first one is too hot."

"Because of the urgency of intervention, we were given a week to learn our Raptoras. Torbjorn modified it enough to give it some extra survivability. He had a hard time doing something outside his comfort zone, but the suit looked a lot better with his touch." An idea popped up. "Can you guess who your best friend in the military, Fareeha?"

"Your service rifle!"

I nodded. "Five points. But in my case that time, the Raptora is my best friend. That's what they told me. The jetpack and I are needed to be soul mates in a week's time, and if my XM9 complains about, I have to tell him that he won't be seeing any action without my _other_ friend.

"In the end, it comes down to results. At the night of the op, we were in position, we flew, some Omnic got a lucky shot." I pinched my nose. "I don't know. Maybe it's the short training span, or technical difficulties, or faulty designs or just pure bad luck. The shutdown was just icing to the cake. The most important part is that I was in charge of the support weapon that was crucial in securing the point. That said, without the support weapon, we couldn't land the helicopters or finish the mission.

"Reyes tried to clear the point on his own, but he ran out of ammo before he could. Ana gave him cover while he retreats and Torbjorn tried to bring up the escape vehicle. When our plans gone wrong for the first time, there was a second. We underestimated their coordination and both Reinhardt and Torbjorn almost lost their lives before they bailed out of that ambush. They destroyed our vehicle, our choppers couldn't land anywhere, and the guys on the ground were between the devil and the deep blue sea. That is until-"

"The Egyptian Army!" she finished it.

"Yep. The EAF (Egyptian Armed Forces) came to their rescue. With our advice, they were outside the OA (Operating Area) waiting in reserve. Yep, we couldn't done it without…" I looked at her, and she knew who it was. She looked a bit sad "…your father. We couldn't finish the mission without him. They all regrouped, secured an LZ, got our agents on the ground, and… you know how that story ends."

Her voice was low. "But they couldn't have done all of that without you, you know."

"You mean the part I was fighting for my life?"

She shook her head. "No. The part you took on a hundred thousand Omnics. That's my favorite part!"

I chuckled. "Where'd you get that number?"

She shrugged. "History. My teacher said it's like a hundred thousand."

"A hundred thousand were present in _Egypt_. Not at one place, or else we could've ended the war with a dedicated artillery barrage." I wish _that_ happened.

"But there were like thousands of them, right?"

"Around me? That night, it was dozens at first. They said they didn't notice a guy falling from the sky initially +6+. Sent a detachment to investigate. I tried to avoid a fight the best way I can and focus on getting on the RV point, but in the end, that was just asking too much. They came at me, I shot first, it all gone to hell right there. It took forever to escape that fight.

"Did I tell you there were dozens at first?" She nodded. "Well, after I shot up a few, they called reinforcements. I hide, they keep finding me, I shot up a few, they call for backup; it's a cycle. By the end of the hour, there were hundreds of 'em. They posted pairs of sentries at each block. A rat couldn't cross without getting slaughtered."

Fareeha spoke up. "The movie said that because of that, you distracted a lot of Omnics. You were doing pro-level guerilla and stuff."

I chuckled at that thought. "Well, training helped, I guess. I told the guys in the interview that I wasn't aware of that whole guerilla thing."

She tilted her head. "Yeah, I think they did. But what about the part you saved a whole family?"

I rubbed my cheek. "Coincidence? The enemy was surrounding me, I need a place to hide, boom, and I found them."

"You make it sound like it wasn't heroic," she pouted.

I laughed and patted her head. "Sometimes, we don't know we were doing the right thing until the dust settled. Like Michelangelo. He never knew he was creating masterpieces unless someone asked why he's painting lying down. That family? I did the best I could that night. I was assigned for a search and destroy, not a rescue mission." I looked away. "But… yeah. We were both in a pinch, and I couldn't just leave them alone, so I decided broke radio protocols and called for an immediate evac at my position." Wonder what that family is doing right now +7+?

I looked back at her and noticed that she hasn't moved. Her eyes betrayed no emotion. "What was… what was dad like?" Yeah, I knew I was bound to get this question sooner or later.

I sighed. "To be honest, I never got to meet Major Mahmud. Ana wouldn't even let me see his picture. He may be a good man for all I know. He… he died leading the evac. I didn't realize who he was until your mother received the news at the FOB (Forward Operating Base)." I gently grabbed her hand. "He saved us all. Me, that family, and his country owed our lives to him."

She nodded. Suddenly, she's quiet. "I guess he saved the world too. If he didn't save you, you wouldn't be the leader of Overwatch anymore."

I chuckled. "Never thought of that. But… maybe you're right."

+1+ In the Trenches of Giza, directed by Travis Peng.

IMDb: 8.2/10

Rotten Tomatoes: 92%

Metacritic: 88%

+2+ Aside from the request of the owner due to his admiration of Morrison's heroism, the presidential suite is one of the most secure places in the world. Also, the suite cannot be bought through payment. It is exclusive for exalted guests.

+3+ Once is enough.

+4+ Athena, despite being manufactured twelve years prior, still has loose grasps on the concept of bioorganic beings. Most of its knowledge are based on what is seen through the internet and anti-human propaganda. Although, in times of battle, it holds as much respect to humans regardless of age. For example in Athena's thought reasoning, any human with an arm can wield a laser rifle, which is naturally recoilless and just as deadly as its ballistic cousin.

+5+ Opinions varied from each agent. Reyes loves the movie because he's the protagonist; Reinhardt adores it because the actor used has stylish hair; Torbjorn likes it because the actor has his _appropriate_ height (a generous 5'8); Amari hates it because of reasons unknown; and Morrison likes it when they gave appropriate credits for those who died that day, but hated it at the same time because the director decided to give him a love interest.

+6+ It is because Omnics cannot comprehend the concept of flying humans.

+7+ Apparently, he did not read the owner's dinner invitation.

* * *

"Commander," Athena informed. "Your aide has brought you your nutritional sustenance."

"Perfect timing." I've sent my e-mail and approved another twelve recruits. "Let him in." I stood up and looked over to Fareeha who was busy playing her Hearthstone on her phone. "Come on, soldier. It's time for dinner."

"One moment," she replied, her eyes glued on the screen. At least she hasn't been asking for more questions.

I shook my head and moved towards the door. It slid open to admit Raj as he wheeled our food in. "Sir." He saluted.

"At ease." I returned the salute. "Just put it on the table. I'll handle the rest."

Raj did so and looked around a bit. "Huh. Where is Col. Reinhardt?" He began placing the platters on the table.

"He has to return to an Outpost to explain our _predicament_." I winked.

"Oh. Shall I return the other serving, sir? You ordered for three after all." He reached to take away the extras.

I rubbed my chin. "I don't know, Raj The chef worked too hard on his craft. It's a shame for it to go to waste." I winked again.

That stopped him outright. He then redoubled his plate grabbing skills. "I'll return the food."

I grabbed his shoulder. "This is an order, Raj." I twisted him down to the chair. " _Sit_ _tight_ and enjoy the meal." If I'm going down in this minefield, I'll take you with me.

"What are we eating, sir?" Fareeha asked as she tucked herself in.

"A six course dinner." I arranged the platters and the silverware. "A Diamond Hotel specialty. On the house."

She eyed at the visitor. "And why are you here?" she scrutinized Raj. He kept silent while turning stiff as a corpse when she spoke to him.

"He's here because he needs to experience bathing under the lamp of luxury." I pulled a spoon down a few centimeters. "You won't be eating these sort of delicacies any time soon, you know. Besides, what good is a leader when he can't even feed his soldiers?" He smiled a bit, only to look stiffer.

She observed the covered platter in front of her. I removed the covers. Pumpkin and diced mushroom risotto. It smells like heaven. The first thing I noticed was Fareeha's disappointment. "It's… small." She lifted the small plate at one side and observed the fist-sized orange rice.

"It HAS to be small," I explained as I sat down. "There are six courses after all. You can't expect to eat all six in the size you're implying." I scooped up a little and held the steaming rice aloft. "One thing to learn is to take small bites and _savor_ the meal." I popped it inside of my mouth and she imitated me. It's nothing short of fantastic. I looked to the side. "Raj, eat." He didn't budge. "I implore you." He kept still. I leaned forward and hissed, " _Eat._ Now."

"Huh. You seem to know… uh, how to eat fancy. I thought you were born in a farm."

"Well, this farmer boy needs to learn how to eat fancy lest he makes a fool of himself around important people. Done it a few times, but I learn quick." I still have nightmares of them +1+. "I've been invited to enough formal dinners to know what the little spoon does." I waved the said spoon. Turning towards the shaking aide, I asked, "Tell us about yourself, Raj."

He almost dropped his spoon. "Wh-what?" Come on, Raj. Work with me! I've ran out of things to say to her hours ago.

Fareeha started. "Why do-"

"Don't speak with your mouth full," I warned.

She swallowed. Her plate is empty. "Why do I need to hear this? He looks like he has never been to a battle."

"Hey, I have combat experience!" he countered.

"He did some battling in Overwatch, but it's nothing noteworthy," I said to defuse the situation. I hurried to get the next platter. "You might learn a thing or two about how the recruiting works and the importance of staff officers." I opened it up to see molokheyyah. She scrunched up immediately when she got a whiff of the bitter soup, but she picked up her spoon anyway as if she got no choice. "Raj has some special qualities."

"Like what?" she asked, picking on the chicken pieces.

I finished my risotto and went for the soup. "What do you think are the qualities for a possible recruit in Overwatch?"

She smiled. "Battlefield experience!"

I chuckled. "Raj?"

He shook his head. "I have none of those." He too moved to the soup course.

She got confused. "Special training?"

"Raj?" I asked again before blowing my spoon.

"Nope."

Her eyes widened. "How'd you get in Overwatch?!"

He rubbed the back of his head, blushing. "Uh, well…"

"Crap," I said, smiling. "You've been with us for years _and_ you still don't know why I approved you?" I looked at Fareeha. "What a possible agent lacks in combat seasoning and training, he makes up with _talent_." I turned my head towards Athena, and the monitor blinked in realization.

He nervously scraped his bowl. "Well, I couldn't say it _is_ talent." Even his chuckles are unsure.

I shook my head and laughed. "What was your service history before Overwatch again?" I let him recover his wits for a while. Looking at the little girl, I told her, "It's okay Fareeha. If you don't want it, set it aside." I got up to uncover the pasta. She oohed at the sight of the elegantly baked Macaroni Béchamel.

He tapped his chin. "I was a _havildar_ in the Indian Army back then, you know, a sergeant. It was the highest I could achieve back then. Me and my men were assigned to the Pakistani border. Renegade Omnic factions always escape from there, so it was imperative back then to have a dedicated force guarding there."

"Did you do any fighting?" Fareeha asked after gulping, finally interested. I opened his pasta for him and urged him to continue.

He shook his head. "Me and my men are quartermasters. Rear-echelon duty. We check if everybody got ammo, keep them fed, and find them places to rest. You know this, yes?" She lost interest. Raj sighed but continued anyway. "I know it's not the most exciting job, but we are very important.

"It was almost five years ago, yes?" I nodded, taking a bite of my meal. "Yes, it was… five years ago. There were reports of increased activity beyond the border. We saw the news, massive Omnic mobilization and their Omniums reaching maximum production. Our superiors said that it's highly exaggerated, but they told us to get ready a week later.

"What we were worried about is that we don't have any weapons to counter Omnics back then. We still have those AK's and rocket launchers that were donated to us by the Russians, but, besides the rockets, we weren't confident that it could penetrate neo-steel. We were… really scared.

"That was until I have an idea." He smiled at the memory. "It started when we heard that there's a convoy of new guns about to be delivered to some Special Forces group to the Himalayas. We were very angry when we heard about it. I wasn't keen to dying without doing something, so I planned to hijack the convoy."

That got Fareeha's attention. "But that's stealing!" She looked at me for support.

I nodded. "Stealing is stealing, no matter how you cut it. Nevertheless, they became heroes in the end." I let Raj continue.

"It wasn't the brightest of decisions, but we were really desperate back then," he sheepishly explained. "I told this to my Subedar Major and I was surprised on how fast he agreed to it. He gave me his ID and uniform, as the plan requires. I brought my men with me in trucks and drove towards the depot. Once we're there, I demanded for the new guns with my fake credentials. It took an hour of yelling and empty threats before we left with the goods.

"In the end, it was worth it. We equipped everybody with XM10 plasma rifles and INSAS (Indian Small Arms System) laser rifles. The Omnics came three days later. I wasn't there fighting with them, but I heard that even our new guns could do little against them +2+. As a quartermaster, I was tasked to tend to the wounded along with our medics and assist the supply lines. We only raise our guns if the fighting gets serious, but thankfully, it didn't come to that.

"Just hours before the battle ended, we were all arrested. It was difficult to court martial back then since we became national heroes. In the end, we were all demoted back to sepoy." I patted his back and took away his plate. "We were given medals, but that's just it for us until the end of our service." He nodded to me. "That was when I met the commander. He was inspecting our veterans for possible Overwatch applicants. Naturally, everyone with past engagements lined up for the opportunity +3+."

"It was a hassle back then," I added.

"But what about his talent?" she asked as I opened her the main course. Ful Medames. Haven't eaten this dish in a while. Then again, I don't visit Egypt often. "I mean, you picked him for something, right?"

"In all honesty," I started while I tucked in. "I chose him because I needed more staff officers. At first. Overwatch needed more people who could handle logistics rather than having more able-bodied commando, and this man here knows his logistics.

"To handle the supply chain and the flow of information is essential to any organization, Fareeha. I couldn't do with all this headache without Raj. I wouldn't know where my men went, I wouldn't know if the local information is reliable, heck, I wouldn't even know if the agents got the right orders, the right equipment, the transportation, all of it +4+! Raj saved me a ton of trouble."

"Is this what I lack, sir?" Athena asked from the back.

"No, no," Raj answered for me while I offered Fareeha the next course. It was salad. "You just… you do your thing. Okay?" Even his smile is fake.

"That sounds boring," Fareeha curtly said, forking a piece of tomato.

"You'll understand it when you taste command, Fareeha. Besides, his record as a quartermaster is _clean_ in a relative sense, he's a national hero; it was an easy choice +5+. Man. Remember back then the looks of their face when your name was announced?"

Raj flinched at the memory. "I was hazed in the next day, sir."

"What's a haze?" she asked.

"The only thing you know is you should avoid it," I curtly answered. I poured soda on her glass and we ate in peace.

"Is there anymore?" Fareeha asked. I saw that she only ate half on her plate, but I'll just have to forgive her for now. It's not like her mother would know about it.

I got up and said, "Let's see what's in store." I opened up the sixth and last course. "Oh! Apple cake!" It was a little light-orange cake shaped like the Overwatch logo. Its glazed crushed nuts on the yellow part of it was gleaming under the light. I patted her shoulder as she wolfs it down. "After you finish, go take a shower."

"Mm-hmm!" she answered happily.

After we finished, she went off to the bathroom while me and Raj cleaned up the table. "Not so bad, isn't it?"

"Sir, I'm not worried about her," he answered as he gently dropped the plate on the cart. "I'm worried about the lieutenant. Who knows what her child is going to her. I mean, the only person who survived her bad side is you, sir."

"With the way you're thinking, we're ALL in her bad side. Constantly. For every single day." We both laughed.

He grew serious. "Has she messaged?"

"She said she's still waiting for her caretaker's reply." He nodded at the news. "Worst case scenario, we might have to keep Fareeha under wraps for tomorrow too."

"One night is already enough," he said.

+1+ His nightmares are comparable to coming to school without your pants on, only this time all of your classmates are Gandhi's and Queen Elizabeth's. If you wondered why these famous and very old people are laughing at you, congratulations! You have successfully empathize with what Jack felt.

+2+ Besides the fact that the Omnics learned to use heat-resistant metal, this difficulty is mostly at the fault of the INSAS laser rifle. Due to the lack of penetration and energy efficiency as demonstrated at the Siege of Amritsar, 10,000 rifles were manufactured in total before the production line shut down in favor for new projects.

+3+ This is a common practice whether or not the applicant wants to join Overwatch. As said by Raj, _everyone_ with past engagements applied. Some, without their knowledge of application. The logic behind this is that you flood the roster with any soldier that has _claimed_ to have been to battle that the chances for Overwatch to pick someone to represent their country would increase. Unfortunately, India is not the only country who thinks like this, and therefore the stress levels of the commander increases to astronomical heights.

+4+ This is exaggeration. The commander has multiple staff for different branches. It just so happens that everything pipes through Raj, who filters the information.

+5+ In other words, he does not care who he picked. Whether Raj Chadha has any _real_ talent is purely debatable.

* * *

 _Mister…._

 _Mister…_

 _Where did you go…?_

…

 _How am I going to…_

…

 _Mister…_

 _Mister…_

 _Why did you leave…?_

…

 _What should I do to…_

…

 _Mister…_

 _Mister…_

 _Sir, please! Turn this way! I'm here! Please, you have to help me! Sir, turn around! Tell me who you see! Please, just turn around! Why can't I touch you? I don't know what I'm supposed to do! Please, sir, can you see me? I don't know what to do, please help me! Sir! You were supposed to care for us! I don't want to be like this! It can't end like this! Sir! Sir!_

"Sir? Sir?"

"Hu-what?" I pulled my sheet to see Fareeha shaking my shoulder. She backed away quickly.

"Y-you were…" she began. Even under the dark, I could see her disheveled hair and fearful eyes. She gulped and said, "You were talking in your sleep, s-sir."

I touched my face and felt my cold sweat. Damn! There were so many times that this could happen again. Why now? Sighing, I turned to sit on my couch bed. "It was nothing. I'll try to sleep peacefully this time. Okay?"

She didn't budge. "I don't know i-if I could sleep, sir." She kept her distance as if I was about to attack her.

I silently curse on my luck. Of all the times on when to tell children to go to sleep, this might be the hardest in history. I might as well get over with it. "Athena, turn on the lights. Not too bright, please."

"Yes, sir," it replied.

Fareeha squinted as the ceiling lights softly lit up. I motioned her to sit beside me. At first, she hesitated, but braved it in the end. I let the silence in the room, listening to the air conditioner hummed from the distance.

By the time I felt that Fareeha calmed down, I began. "Have you heard about Lena Oxton? Last year?"

She nodded. Her eyes avoids mine. "I heard the news. She was a pilot, right?" I nodded and urged her to continue. "There were a lot of people… angry at you because." She gulped. "She died."

"She died," I repeated at her. It's more to myself rather than driving the point. "We… we got too ambitious. There were science fairs in the headquarters back then, and some guy suggested about a teleporting jet fighter. I gave them the funding, and before I knew it, they produced results. As in honest-to-God results.

"We were all excited for it. Especially if we can try on bombers. We'd be unstoppable. I gave the green light for further funding and studies. It was unmanned at first, which was a complete success, but because of the dangers of Omnic hacking, we need a human in the cockpit. Naturally, every one of our pilots volunteered +1+. But there was one pilot who was perfect for the job.

"Lena 'Tracer' Oxton. She was one of the youngest agent we have, top of her class and a good veteran. It was… my decision to pick her. It was mostly due to appeal to the young recruits, say that they can be chosen to do great things like these too." Additionally, it was also to appease to British since they're always on my balls. "I mean, there was no harm to it. If it can work without pilot, how can it fail now?"

I looked down on my hands. "Everybody went mad when she disappeared. We tried searching the globe for a wreckage or something, but it's been eight months now. The scientists and engineers assigned blame to themselves and retired. I share some of the blame as well, but they keep telling me to stop thinking about it. A _fortuitous_ event. That kind of answer didn't satisfy Winston though."

"The monkey from the moon?" she asked. A bit more alive now.

I nodded. "Lena was the first one to greet him, and as far as I know, she was his closest friend in the entire organization. He went on a rampage when she died. Had to shoot like a dozen tranquilizers before he settled down." I watched the ceiling. "More to it than that, he blamed me for her death." I looked down to see Fareeha shaking. I patted her back. "Accidents like this happens all the time, Fareeha. The best we could do is to move on."

She shook her head. "Th-that's not it." She wiped her eyes. I'm surprised that she's crying. "The news, everyone, said bad things about you. All of them have no right to blame you, sir. It's not fair!"

I chuckled at her reasons. I held her shoulder. "The thing is, Fareeha, I don't blame them for it. I talked to all of them myself; the British prime minister, her friends from the Royal Air Force, even her family. They lost a hero, a soldier, and a daughter. Why should I say that they shouldn't be angry at me? The best thing I could do back then is to keep my eyes forward and continue my duty.

"I thought I could get over the failure. I still hated the sight of jet planes. I was about to forget the whole damn thing until…" I removed my hand when I felt it shaking. "…until… Do you believe in ghosts, Fareeha?"

She slowly nodded. "They said I get too scared at night. You saw a ghost?"

I sighed. "Well, last month, I saw Lena again." She widened her eyes and I acknowledged her surprise.

"But she's dead!"

I shrugged. "That's what I thought at first. One time in my bathroom, I heard someone whispering behind me. I-I was shaving in front of my mirror-"

"I hate horror stories, sir," she feebly said.

I let silence take in for a while. "This is the truth, Fareeha. You have to believe me." She hesitantly nodded. "I was in front of my mirror, shaving, and then there was something like a whisper. I turned around, but I didn't see anybody. I continued shaving until the whispers slowly turned to screaming. There wasn't anybody behind me, I turned around to be sure, but the voice just gets getting louder and louder.

"And then… I saw her. I couldn't believe my eyes. Lena was right in front of me, in her G-suit. She was screaming and… crying. I screamed too when she tried to touch me, but her arms just passed through me. It felt like… cold air. The guards outside my room came in soon after, and they saw her too. They tried to apprehend her, but she disappeared. All that was left was me sitting on the floor naked. My cheek to my jaw was cut."

I shook my head at the memory. "The next day, the guards reasoned out that it was an enemy infiltrator with advanced stealth tech. A security overhaul was ensued so that this wouldn't happen again. I let them do this just to occupy their minds. The only people I told about Lena was the OG's. Some of them scoffed at my claims, but… your mother believed me." She widened her eyes. "She never kids around. She knows how to deal with people, and when she says I'm telling the truth, they believed me." I paused.

"And then what happened?" she asked.

"Along with the security overhaul, we posted agents to spot incidents like this again. We still haven't seen Lena since that day." I looked down to the floor. "That incident still gets me sometimes. Maybe it's the guilt. I get nightmares about it, like tonight." I grabbed her hand. "But I know I can't let those nightmares rule over my life."

I thought of something else. "Remember on the reasons why I chose Raj? I chose him because he knew he was in risk of court martial, but he did it anyway because he accepted those risks, and, more than anything else, he would do anything to complete the mission. Remember that, Fareeha."

"If I'm brave, I can join Overwatch?"

I nodded. "Absolutely. Although, I'm more leaning towards agents who are courageous. The difference of courage and bravery is whether or not you accept those fears. If you're thinking about going to Overwatch, you'll also face horrors like these, and I need people who knows how to prepare for it."

She nodded, her chest puffed. "I'll be a good soldier someday, sir!"

I ruffled her hair. "That's a good girl. Now go to sleep. There's a big day ahead of you."

+1+ Studies shows that Overwatch agents have massive inferiority complexes, which they constantly and aggressively prove to each other who is better at their field. These studies are inconclusive and almost leans to slander, however.

* * *

"Sir, you have a message," Athena informed me after I make sure she's sleeping well.

"Can it wait?" I asked as I drank my glass of water.

"Sir, _it can only be answered by you_."

I wiped my lips, recognizing the code phrase. "Let's see what we got," I murmured as I sat on the chair in front of my computer. I opened up my inbox to see a black message. I opened it and immediately deleted it.

Donning my coat and my Infinity Pistol, I made sure to not wake Fareeha up as I exited the suite. It was two in the morning, which means only guards are patrolling the hallways. I greeted each one of them and they gave me a salute each time. None of them looked suspicious, but it's not wrong to be safe.

I went to the elevator, punched for the lower levels and headed towards the bar. There's no one here except the bartender and soft music. Most of the lights are off since there's no dancers. I asked the bartender for some orange soda and took my glass to the furthest couch. I settled my glass on the table and kept an eye for my contact.

"You still drink soda?" someone asked from afar. My eyes widened as I recognized my old friend. He was wearing a business suit and carrying a drink. A tourist disguise, huh? He was smiling when he came. "What are you, thirteen?"

"Gabe?" I whispered out as I invited him to my table. I shoved my hands into my pocket and alerted Athena to loop the camera feed. I looked to the bartender, but he hasn't noticed us yet. I'd bet he never felt Gabe entering the bar. "I knew this one is serious, but I didn't think you'd be here yourself."

He nodded and sat across me. He looked around the room before speaking to me lowly. "I got your message. I heard about the situation, but I'm not here about that." That heightened my stress levels. He took a long sip of his cocktail before continuing. "Something serious is about to happen."

"What's more serious than this?"


	3. Chapter 3 (Edited)

We're about to go into deep waters now. Slimy dark green algae are sticking on my persons as I carefully swam through the swampy river. Normally, a quick swim under the afternoon sun would be quite refreshing. You just have to ignore the mosquitoes and leaches sucking away your superhuman blood +1+.

The jet sounds seemed so distant from where I am. What's comforting is the fact that them flying over the air even now means they haven't found Stragg yet. They wouldn't be searching solely for me, although it is under their agenda. Their search area is too wide to comb over my last known position. Regardless, it's still imperative for me to find him first before they rearrange their search patterns again.

"We're approaching our waypoint, 76," Gory, the only other person I could talk to, notified.

"Are the rebreathers functional?" I asked as I prepared to dive.

"Of course!"

With that said, I let myself drop into the near black water. Little beams of green sunlight danced through the surface, but it steadily goes thinner and thinner as I sunk more. Once I'm deep enough, I brushed the sides of my visor and the world turned green. Bright green. Weed and root hanged around me, reaching straight down into the bottomless pit. If I could picture myself, I'd look like a puppet attached to a thousand strings.

I kept sinking and sinking, letting the water drag me deeper and deeper into its embrace. Finally, I could see a D-82 Druid VTOL slightly buried in the swamp bed. Being shot down really did a number on the flyer, but being underwater for all these years is something else. One of its wings is torn off, listing on the side and the aluminum surface are rusted all over.

Nobody would have thought that anybody could have been hiding here, but the swaying lights in the cockpit says otherwise. As I suspected, this would be one of Stragg's hideouts. Before I do deals in this side of Italy, it never hurts to know the environment a week ahead of time. Where to hide your stash, what's the best route for escaping, or what waters are the deepest.

There have been downed aircrafts and vehicles prior to the Crisis and nobody is keen on cleaning it up… or maybe they just want it there. Regardless, I marked it all down in my map. At least the ones that are detectable. This Druid is one of those locations closest to Stragg's last location. Only took four attempts.

Once I reached the floor, I slowly huddled towards the sunken aircraft while being mindful of floating topside. For insurance, I kneeled down to pick up a large rock in order to add my weight. My scanners said that the doors on the side are welded. More human tampering, but I can't go through there. I don't think Stragg would be hospitable to me if I let all that water flood in.

There are missile tubes on the bottom of the aircraft, and since the flyer is listing to the side, I could see it from here. One of the openings are open. Dropping my rocks, I clambered up inside. I could barely fit in this hole, but it's manageable. I just have to pull harder. It was pitch black dark and damn claustrophobic. This must be what treasure chests feels like.

At the last stretch, I felt for the side of the metal tunnel and felt a lever. Pulling it, I pushed the hatch away and swam into a missile-less missile rack. It's as small as a telephone booth for midgets, but a human being shouldn't be here anyway. There's another hatch above me, only this one is open. It leads to the inner compartments.

Swimming that way, I popped my head out to see a gun pointed at my head. I looked at my assailant but immediately moved my eyes away when I saw Stragg in a black and blue skintight diving suit. You don't want to know the shapes forming around what he's wearing.

"Who the hell-" he began, but widened his eyes when he realized who's he's pointing at. "Wait a minute. Soldier: 76?"

I brought myself out in full height, wiping the water off from my visor. "Put that away," I said as I pushed his pistol gently away to the side. "You're just gonna hurt yourself."

"What does a washed out vigilante want with me?" he asked, taking two steps behind and resumed aiming at me. "You can't be in Helix's pockets. Aren't they trying to kill you too?"

"I'm no—"

"Back. Up," he threatened.

I didn't. "I'm not in anyone's paycheck Stragg, but you do owe me some consolation." I showed him my mud clogged XM9. He tilted his head. I sighed. "Size B's," I hinted more obviously.

It took a moment before Stragg opened his mouth and whipped his head back, laughing. "Mr. James?! HA! Can't believe my longtime customer is none other than the wannabe Batman!"

"Wish I _was_ Batman," I replied, looking around the place. "At least he got money and respect. On both sides."

The Druid is just like the ones I used to ride in +2+. Shock resistant walls, the usual strap-on chairs, the chemical toilet booth at the back that's thankfully not used when the aircraft crashed; and an MRE oven at the front, behind the cockpit. Only this time everything is wet and the only source of light here are two pieces of green glowing sticks and Stragg's pocket light. We're still ankle deep in water, but the interior doesn't seem to be flooding.

He giggled furiously. "The force of justice, the avenger of…" He laughed midway, slapping his knees like it was the greatest joke he have ever heard. "…is using my guns! MY guns!"

I just sighed. "Can we just move this over? I believe we have some business to discuss."

He waved his hand apologetically. "Yeah, yeah." He snorted and then straightened up. "What does the unworthy Stragg can provide to the hero of the hour?"

"A trade." The piqued his interest. If I'm planning to get into his good side, I need to speak his language. "I have an INSAS laser rifle back at my place. The real deal. Nobody makes them anymore. Worth a lot in the collector's market."

"So, this thing for a ride?" I nodded. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" I pulled out my phone and wiped the wet screen. I went into my gallery and showed it to him. He whistled. "Can I?" I handed him the phone and paced.

"Does this solves it?"

He holstered his pistol. "The indentions and serial numbers look legit. Date seems a match, but I think I need to consult my computer." He looked at me. "How do you want to make this sale? Hot—wait!" He began laughing again. "I don't have a hotline!" He walked to the oven and furiously kicked it again and again. "I'm going… to feed… that bastard… of his… own… INSIDES!"

"Before you do that, we have to get out of here first," I suggested.

He exhaled, letting all of it out. Silence. "My whole life is ruined, ya know?"

I nodded. "You and me alike."

"Yeah?" He walked down to a seat. "How so?"

I leaned against the wall. "Let's just say that I… took things for granted. Most of the times, I ignored it. Sometimes, I swept it under the carpet, thinking I could do the cleaning later. Years gone by and I paid for that mess. Paid it with… good men."

We looked at each other for a moment. There's doubt in his eyes, but he just shrugged and said, "Whatever." He then walked pass me. "Over here."

"Just like that?"

He looked at me and smiled. "You could have figured out yourself with or without me. And besides, you're my favorite customer." At a seating, he unzipped a humongous plastic bag. "Always paid cash up front. You don't get many clients like that nowadays."

I came up next to him. "What the hell is that?" I asked as I looked at the bag he's opening. It looks like a torpedo with a large hatch.

"It's an SDV (Swimmer Delivery Vehicle)." My eyes widened. "You know, the stuff commandoes used when they need to infiltrate from the sea?"

"That thing's too small! You'd have to be as thin as a scarecrow in order to fit into that thing!"

He feinted a hurt expression. "Well, I wasn't planning to share them in the first place. But hey, at least the ride is snug."

I just shook my head. "So, what? You planning to shoot yourself to the ocean?"

"Yep. I have some locals there that could hide me while the heat blows over. You?"

"Let's keep those things for ourselves, okay?" He nodded. I looked around. "I can't believe this thing is still operational."

"When I found it, it wasn't. Had someone to fix it up."

I noticed that the windows are bolted up. "While underwater?"

"Well, _fix_ may be stretching it. It's a little bit of maintenance here and a bit of appraisal there. I was planning on selling it, but once I reviewed the repair bill, I figured I'd lose money if I do. So, I was content on making it my torpedo launcher. It was… It was a bit tricky getting these babies in, I tell you what."

I nodded. "I think I got the idea." If he tried to make a SDV launcher at the bottom of the swamp, it would look obvious if you have the right equipment. But if the launcher looks like another wreckage, nobody would look twice… except for me. "So when are we going to launch?"

He shrugged. "As soon as the mercs blow over." He shuffled nervously. "Eventually."

I crossed my arms. "Meaning?"

He scratched his scarred cheek. "Well, I was thinking that we could leave at midnight or something."

I sighed. "Are you saying that we can't observe them from here?"

"To be fair, we're underwater after all." I headed towards the cockpit. "What are you doing?"

"Are the comms still working here?"

"Tried it," he said, following me. "No luck."

After reaching it, I saw what he meant. The controls were busted up to the point of unrecognizability. Sources points out that it was because of rust, waterlogging and other sorts of physical damages. The seat was still there. Burn marks on the base tells me that the pilot tried to eject and failed.

In front of me, the glass was cracked in a few places. Nothing seems to be leaking, and I could see some recent repairs on the sills. There's only roots, weeds, algae, fish, and the occasional stray of light. Everything else is darkness.

"Where is it," I mumbled as I sat on chair, checking around the surroundings. "There it is." I found an access port. I hooked it up with my armor. "Gory," I called in sotto voce, "do a systems check."

"You do realize there's no power, right?" Stragg said.

"Watch and learn, Stragg. Just watch and learn."

"76," Gory called. "I could power up this side of the VTOL for a moment and it's going to cost a lot of our power reserves."

I kept my voice low. "How much are we talking about?"

"For five minutes we'll be left with power enough to last one firefight +3+."

"I only need one." I looked around again and found the IHADSS (Integrated Helmet and Display Sight System) above me. Pulling it down, I hooked up the helmet with my armor too. "Okay, Gory. Do it."

With that said, the cockpit jolted to life. Lights are blinking everywhere. Instruments, gauges, paraphernalia were whirling and confused. "What the hell's happening!?" Stragg exclaimed, gripping the back of my seat.

"Gory, I found the comms. Conserve power and focus on powering up on there." The instruments around me turned dead as the IHADSS flickered. Some of the screen is broken, but it's doable. I immediately tapped my visor to capture the signal. "There. Power everything down but this node."

"Powering down," Gory complied.

"That'll bring down a few watts. How much available time do we have?"

"We got about ten to twelve hours."

I nodded. "See if you can cut some corners."

"Uh," Stragg began, looking around, "what just happened?"

I pulled out the helmet and gave it to him. "See for yourself."

He hesitantly placed it over his head and instantly changed his attitude. "Whoa. What is all this?"

"Don't go too far." I pulled him close so the wire between the helmet and Gory wouldn't snap. "Before I dived down here, and, frankly, before I came to this place, I placed sensors all over the swamp. We could observe Helix from here." I shifted from my seat. "Although, I need to stay connected to the cockpit for the remaining period of time."

"Why didn't you tell me about this in the first place?"

"Because I don't know for certain if the comms here are working, or if they're powerful enough to reach the surface. Good thing it did, right?" It seems that Helix patrols are doing a second sweep. Tighter this time.

He pulled off the helmet. "And if it didn't?"

"I could swim back and forth every thirty minutes."

"That's a lot of dedication."

"And you're my only way out of this mess. I mean, why is Helix coming after you in the first place?"

"That's… There's a lot of factors involved." He went back to the holding area and kept talking. "Let's just say that I made a deal. The police have wiretaps and manpower ready to arrest the guys on the scene, but at that day, they didn't catch all of them. Particularly, the _boss_. He could've easily told everyone else about my connections to the government, but the usual customers, all heavy hitters, still kept buying from me. I figured he was just scared… and then…"

"He bought Helix's services?" I guessed.

"Not directly. They made the Italians do it. I contacted my handler and confirmed a certain senator, or senators, convinced the Parliament to pass the vote. They froze my accounts, they took my connections away, and I'm now in the Italians' black list for the rest of my life. Probably in Interpol too." He paused. "I got burned, man. You get it? I got friggin' burned!" I heard water splashing violently behind me. "Sucks to be me, right?"

"I could imagine worse. I mean, they could've caught you. You said you have some friends to stay with, right?"

"…My handler said he has a plan on getting me out of the country. I trust the guy that much."

I nodded. "Then let's focus on that. At least you got friends out there waiting for you." I sighed. "Unlike me."

A silence settled for a moment. "You're awfully kind to me. I know it's not about the goods. What are you after?"

I craned my head towards him. "You don't want to know."

He snorted furiously. "I don't like taking bets if I don't know the outcome. Gambles like that gets me killed. So yeah, I want to know why some world trotting vigilante wants to help me."

I turned my head back to the darkness that is in front of me. "One thing, you're the only legit supplier I have. It's going to hurt my cause if you're not there."

"I don't give a crap about your damn cause." Sometimes, I do too. "And the other?"

"What?"

"That can't be the only thing you need from me. Let's be honest. You know you can buy from other arms dealers more _accessible_ than me. More _legit_ than me."

I weaved my fingers together. "Oh really? Give me an example." I peered through the darkness, letting my head settle on the aged seat.

Silence loomed again. "There's this guy from Overwatch. At least he said he's from Overwatch."

+1+ They would probably die first from the inhuman properties of 76's blood.

+2+ Before the Omnic Crisis, the Russian Federation has been developing a transport/attack air vehicle for long-range special operations. By the time a workable prototype was finished, the project was cancelled when they realized the exorbitant production cost. This Druid prototype was called again when Overwatch was first drafted and it became a mainstay in the organizations arsenal for its reliability. Its service life is 17 years. This popularity also made the aircraft popular in a global scale, resulting in sales of tens of thousands, although all later production models are downgraded, rather heavily, to accommodate affordability. Those didn't last long.

+3+ Approximately, two minutes. Any longer than that, then Soldier: 76 is doing it wrong.

* * *

"Graham Stavropoulos," Gabe said as we drove over the night. "I think he was a Dekaneas (equiv. to Cpl.) back when the Crisis ended. A people's hero. Showed the Omnics a thing or two even though he's a conscript."

"Did that really happen?" I asked, lolling my head over the window. Even though it's past midnight, Cairo is still lively.

We stopped in front of a red light. "Does it matter?" I shrugged. "Fact is, that guy has been doing some high stakes biz right here on Cairo."

"And this concerns me _how_?" The light turned green. We drove on. "Thanks for the info, by the way. If you get a good picture of him with his hand in the jar, I'll have him arrested tomorrow." I stretched my arm to change the radio for a song that I could understand somewhat.

"Sorry to break it to you, but arresting him is going to be harder than it sounds like." We drove into a tunnel.

"Of course it does." At least the car ride is smooth. Can't believe it's a Ford. "Care to elaborate?"

"The budget is tight on us this year, right?"

I smiled. "Thanks for reminding me." It's partly my fault for drafting the charter in the first place +1+. "Are there any more people who are _unhappy_ with their paycheck +2+?"

"I don't think it's about the pay." We exited the tunnel way and into the industrial area. "Remember the old SCAR-P's we're handing over to the underequipped nations?"

I nodded. "I figured a little _donation_ could raise our status a little."

"Well, Gray has other plans for them." We slowed down so Gabe could check if anyone's following +3+. "Instead of giving them away for a little bit of renown, he's been selling it to them." We sped up.

I clicked my tongue. "That doesn't make sense. How is buying the guns more beneficial than having it for free?"

"The same as why people are laundering money. They need to look like the guns are from a legitimate source."

"We ARE a legitimate source. Also, they're 15-round single-fire SCAR-P's. How much is that worth in the market +4+?"

"That's not all they're selling." I raised my eyebrows. "We're talking about the _other_ guns. The weapons we captured from our past friends, the failed projects that R&D dumps in our warehouses; those kinds of guns. And we got _loads_ of them. Gray sells them with the SCAR's and say _we_ approved everything, making it a legitimate business deal."

I rubbed my temple. "How did our guys got access to our stockpiles?"

"You heard about Torbjorn doing some spring cleaning. He doesn't have to _be_ there to see them dumped away. He just needs to know if they disappeared, and Gray and his buddies are more than glad to do that for him."

I formed my words slowly. "We didn't bother with those weapons for a _reason_. You know all about the unstable power cells emitting radiation and crap. I wouldn't trust a normal soldier to wield one."

"The world thinks otherwise," he countered. "Everybody is having this Second Crisis paranoia just because a few toasters came outside with signs. They need a deterrent, even if it kills them."

I flung my arms. "Then what does that make us? We were created for a reason, right?"

He shook his head. "We're not an army, Jackie. We can't be everywhere at once. Some part of them wants something to throw at the robots. Most of them wants the guns so they could look somewhat competent without Overwatch."

"Makes me wonder why Overwatch has to exist in the first place," I almost said out loud. Thankfully, I kept it to myself. "I think I get the idea now. I'll see them arrested on the morrow. They won't survive court martial. Think you can provide the evidence?"

He chuckled. "I brought you out here for a reason, Jack. Why do you think that we drove all the way away from your hotel?"

I sighed. "I was hoping for an evening stroll. Is it happening tonight?"

"Yep." We're driving into a low-traffic area.

"Then consider the op cancelled." I really don't want to deal with this. "The damage is already done. I don't want to risk your lives more than you guys have to." And mine. Especially mine. "I mean, it's just cash."

"Where do you think all that money is going? How did you think we could afford that new line of Druids last week? Those new armor, those new alarm systems?" I sighed exasperatedly, finally lining up on what Gabriel's going on about. "Sgt. Stavropoulos has been _helping_ the org with the profit he's getting. Word gets out that we have been acquiring our budget through ill-gotten gains-"

"—It'll be a whole PR nightmare." I looked at a thousand yards away, thinking about the implications. "Do we have to kill him?"

We stopped in front a line of warehouses. Gabe turned to me. "He's a national hero. He disappears, there's going to be questions."

I stared at him. "What do you propose?"

+1+ To expand on this, the Overwatch charter, on which Jack is referring to, has a loophole. This loophole enables all volunteering nations to raise and lower the funds forwarded to Overwatch in relation to their recent exploits and performance. This loophole however, despite on how Cmd. Morrison views it, was key to launching Overwatch in the first place. Countries around the world would not have agreed if there were no compromise, even if it means that it would undermine their best assets regarding global security.

+2+ Unlikely. While applied to the Overwatch program, the Basic Pay is quite generous. It even covers dental. Although it depends on their rank and specialty, the salary itself is infinitesimal compared to equipment and base expenses. From a financial perspective, it is safe to say that the gun is more valuable than the soldier wielding it. This fact stresses the Commander to no end.

+3+ Jack knows his habits.

+4+ A lot, actually. Most modern armies at this era still has little to no Anti-Omnic weaponry, even after acknowledging the threat of Omnics 15 years prior. Energy weapons are in heavy demand.

* * *

We waited in front of a warehouse. Gabe whipped out his phone and called a number. He hung up a second later. A moment passed and the warehouse door opened, inviting us in. Inside was a stockpile of pillows and blankets, all wrapped up and raised like castles. It has this new car smell filling my nostrils as soon as I entered.

"Officer on deck!" informed one of the Blackwatch agents in the vicinity. They all stopped whatever they were doing and stood up.

"At ease," I commanded. Under the dim yellow light, I could count three Blackwatch agents wearing Overwatch colors. I went up to one of them with Gabe in my heels. "Name?"

"Debit," he said, and nothing more. At least he knows that he shouldn't say his real name. He was pale-skinned, sweaty and bald. He wears a standard issued medium body armor, and on his hands is an XM9. His bright green bionic eyes darts back and forth. "Sir. Uh… I-I mean, commander." He has a bit of an accent.

I turned to Gabe. "What's his story?"

"Counterfeiter. Real hardcore stuff. Fake security keys for bank robberies, AAA-level government clearances, and all the kinds of forgery you could think of." He flicked his head to him. "We picked him up when we traced his handiwork from a client of his, back at Tunisia. I gave him the talk like the rest, and now he's our tech-support."

I nodded. "Do you know what to do?"

He fidgeted with his foot. "Yes… Yes, I was briefed. I-I don't have to shoot, right?" He lifted his rifle.

"Only when it's necessary, Debit," Gabe answered, looking annoyed.

I sighed. Moving to the next, I stood face to face with a weird looking Omnic. It was short, couldn't reach my belt, thin as a stick and is coated in blue, yellow and white like the logo. Has four spiderlike legs, two arms with razor sharp talon and a head that looks straight out of a Predator movie. " _I_ am glad that I could meet the leader. Very glad." Its voice box sounds like a tinny hum of a refrigerator starting.

I looked at Gabe. "Jag +1+ was an experimental land mine gone sentient. She was sitting on the beaches of Sydney for eight years before she deviated."

I cocked my head. "She?"

He shrugged. "Just play ball with me, okay?" I waved for him to continue. "Okay. Years before, she got her head together, removed the explosives back at her Omnium, got an upgrade or two, and then travelled overseas." He inclined his head. "Let's just say it still has the programming. Jag has a rap sheet the size of a phonebook."

Jag bowed as if she was proud of it. "We tracked her down at Hong Kong when a mark of her got dicey. Rest assured that was the end of _that_. Jag here will be our go to brawler if the mission didn't go as planned."

Jag was peering at me apprehensively with its white camera slits. " _I_ shall do my part. _I_ shall do my part perfectly."

I shook my head and moved to the next. "Sorry about that," Gabe said beside me. "All she could think about is self-sacrifice and calculations on how to kill every person in this room."

"No accidents?"

He smiled. "I'd be dead if there is."

The last guy was standing still the whole time. Other than the light body armor coated with the Overwatch decals, he hides his face with a gas mask. He has a MAC-10 on his shoulder holster and not much else. Upon approach, he curtly said, "Evening sir." His voice garbled through the filter. Other than that, he seems decent. "I'm Dunny."

I raised my eyebrow. "Punishment," Gabe explained. "Disobeyed an order, so we have to call him Dunny for the rest of the year."

"Gotcha." Glad I'm not on his shoes. "So what's his story?"

"Espionage. Lifted him up after he killed a dozen people in a Pakistani consulate. Since he's nice enough to not say his name, his purpose there or which spy agency he works for, he must be pretty high up in the spy ladder."

I grinned a little. "You're losing your touch, Gabe."

"Believe me. We _tried_." He walked forward and clasped his shoulder. "But at least Blackwatch now has an outstanding asset."

"You mean no one claimed him yet?" I raised my hand before he answered. "That was rhetorical." I faced Dunny again. "Why an SMG?"

"We'll be facing human targets, sir. Plasma rifles don't fire fast enough."

I placed my hands on my hip. "We have laser pistols in our arsenal. Automatic fire, high fire rate, large battery lives, and most importantly, no recoil +2+."

He nodded. "I could see the benefits, but I'm not risking that if the people we're facing has body armor. Ninety per cent of them out there has insulation. I'll keep the MAC, sir."

I nodded. "You proved your point." I faced Gabe. "Give them the last minute prep."

Afterwards, we all made our way to the van parked outside. Dunny is driving this time. We gave Gabe space inside the van to wear his own Overwatch uniform. Aside from the usual tactical armor, he added a hard hat, a dust mask and night vision goggles to hide his face. It took less than an hour to reach the River Nile.

Disembarking after checking for witnesses, Dunny ran to the place first to complete his objective. We appointed Jag to lead the way, trusting her scouting abilities. While we walked towards the Imbaba Bridge, Debit was checking his phone frequently, which annoyed Gabe since the phone is giving out light. With a slap to the arm, Debit put it away.

" _I_ observe many humans," Jag said as we stopped outside the Imbaba Bridge, behind the bushes. " _I_ observe many obstacles."

"We're not here to take them on," I reiterated. I pulled down a branch to get a better look. There are armed men guarding a big cargo ship that's stopping under the bridge. It's a handful of them, most likely came from those vans and busses parked beside the river. None of them has any indication of whom they work for, but they are all carrying high-grade guns. They know how to position themselves as well. "Get us in that boat, Jag. Like we planned." We can't be seen right now.

She nodded. " _I_ will lead."

Once we reached the perimeter, Debit informed us that his phone buzzed once. Looking at the results, we saw the guards, one by one, changed their patrol patterns. It looks like Dunny is as dependable as Gabe said. Sneaking in to their command post while remaining undetected is a massive feat on its own.

Now that the guards have their _new orders_ , Jag led on towards the river. There, we jumped into the murky waters of the Nile. Back then, the ancient Egyptians didn't know how to swim because the river had too much bacteria and crocodiles to be considered a good dip. Now, I could see why with all the lichen sticking on my coat. Good thing the crocs aren't around anymore.

We all swam to the other side of the boat so they wouldn't see us infiltrating. Jag had gone ahead, climbed towards a portside window, and dropped a rope down, letting us follow her. From there, we went in deeper into the ship, trusting on Jag's built in sensors for approaching patrols.

"This is it," Gabe said as we all stopped in front of a door. He looked at Debit and asked, "Is it ready?"

Debit quickly took his phone out and checked. "Everything is in order, sir." He gave a nervous smile.

I brought out my Infinity Pistol and checked my bat. It's still potent. "Get your game face on, boys," I said, giving Jag the signal to open the door.

As soon as she opened it, a loud voice boomed. "Our next item is a prototype microwave emitter." We all filed into a catwalk and looked down to see men in civilian clothing sitting on rows of chairs. I immediately recognized the man on the podium, lifting a gun that I haven't seen in a while.

We inched towards the rails, laying low. "That him?" I asked, pointing at the guy on the podium while explaining the functions of the gun.

"That's him," Gabe answered. "Lieutenant Graham Stavropoulos."

Gray was smiling with a very dangerous weapon on his arms. He cleaned up his act compared to the photo Gabe gave to me. His raven black hair is swept back and he shaved off the facial hair. He's also wearing a rather expensive beige suit. Classy, fits well, and money well spent. I could guess where he got the cash for it.

Graham continued with his sales pitch. "These bad boys were confiscated at the western tips of Mindanao. The MILF (Moro Islamic Liberation Front) pooled in their funds for weapons against the water Omnics. They gave up halfway, bought a prototype from the black market, reproduced it, and used it to extort money. You know, for their hot moms." The audience erupted in laughter.

I placed my palm at my face. "I can't believe this."

"At least we know half on how he sold out so fast," Gabriel said.

"Yeah, that operation didn't go unnoticed," Gray continued. "It wasn't the extortion racket that attracted the heat. It was the high number of cancer patients." He nodded. "That's right. This one here is a hot potato. Flawed from the start. But hey!" He winked. "I'm sure you guys could work around it, eh?"

Gabe checked his watch. "This'll take a while."

Graham continued on displaying each and every gun in his disposal. Scratch that. _Our_ disposal. From single shot Gauss rifles to handheld armor melting flamethrowers, which I remembered killing a lot of their _own_ people. We couldn't use any of them in the first place, but it still ours. The show took more than an hour before Graham changed directions.

After setting down the weapon on the crate beside him, he clasped both his hands. "Now, let's start the bidding."

I widened my eyes. "Bidding?" I whispered to Gabe, who was just as surprised as I was. "You never said anything about a bidding. You said it's going to be only the Egyptians!"

"Plan's changed." He looked at Debit, who is thumbing his phone. "Can you still do it?"

Debit nodded. "I'm already connected to their accounts… but, sir, if the Egyptians can't win the bid-"

"We'll go to Plan B," Gabe finalized. "We keep moving no matter what happens, okay?" We all affirmed, although I don't like it. Plan B means we nab Graham and blow up the ship. Blackwatch could do this easily, but I'd rather avoid casualties for both sides.

"Shall we start?" Gray asked, holding a gavel. "Let's start with 10 mil." Then fingers were raised. Everyone seems to be eager to get his or her hands on forbidden tech. The numbers gets higher and higher, which makes me wonder whom these people are. No normal person or organization could have this much money.

"Half a billion?!" Debit jolted, which Gabe frowned upon.

"That's not end of it," I said as I watched more fingers raised. To be honest, this is kinda tempting. That dough alone could leave Overwatch active for a considerable amount of time. Still, I know how that song usually ends.

"1.5!" Gray announced rapidly. "I'm at1.5! I want a 1.55, 1.55, bid on 1.55. Is there any-1.6! I'm at1.6 billion! 1.6 would you go to 1.65? Is there a 1.65? 1.65. Is there—1.65!"

"The target is not buying," Jag observed.

"That's a problem," Gabe agreed. I recognized the EAF representative, #1. He's talking intensively to a guy next to him, whom I could vaguely recognized.

Just as I was about to lose hope, #1 raised his hand. "1.8!" Gray shouted excitedly. "Is there a 1.85? I want 1.85 billion. Anyone bidding for-"

"1.9!" someone suddenly shouted.

"1.9! I'm at 1.9, and I want 1.95, 1.95, bid on 1.95. I'm at 1.9, would you go-"

"2 billion!" #1 finally shouted.

"2 billion!" A lot of people scoffed and some started to leave. "I'm at 2 billion; can we go for a 2.1? Bid on 2.1. Would you go to 2.1, 2.1…"

"Cross your fingers," Gave said.

"2 billion going once! 2 billion going twice. SOLD!" He slammed his gavel.

I slowly wheezed out the breath that I was unconsciously holding. I waved Jag to lead away to the next area as everyone downstairs left disgruntled. I took a last look to see Graham congratulating the winner as he led them to his office.

His 'office' is at the ship's bridge, and that's where we're going to listen.

+1+ Shortened name from the J-A6 Smart Mine. This is the first mine of its kind to be given an Omnic OS (Operating System). Its purpose is to calculate multiple target proximity before popping up from the ground, run towards where it could do the most damage, and self-detonate in a shower of white phosphorous. All done in a matter of 0.225 seconds. Currently, the Geneva Conventions banned the J-A6.

+2+ Some of them, albeit those high-powered ones, have recoil. Only that it is very subtle. It is comparable to a slap to the shoulder, or a jolt rather resulted by the sudden change of air pressure. A well-trained soldier could ignore this entirely.

* * *

"Congratulations on your prize, sir," Graham said. We're just outside of the bridge area, listening to the conversation by a bug Jag planted. Cairo nights sure are chilly.

"It is for the greater good of Egypt, surely," the other guy said.

"So who's this?"

"His name is not important. We both have reached to an agreement to combine our resources to buy your produce. In return, we share it. That does not mind you, yes?"

Silence. "Of course." I could hear something opening up. "Would you two kindly?"

Gabe faced Debit, who is at his phone again. "This is it. Don't mess up."

"Yes, sir," he confidently said. I hope this kid is as good as Gabe turned had him to be. Debit rapidly tapped the phone. "Accessing the bank… bouncing the accounts…"

I hear keyboard keys tapping. "Hurry it up," I said.

"…Notifying the branch manager…" he mumbled.

Cheers. I could hear cheers, and then… "Wait a minute," Graham said. "What the hell is this?"

"I… I don't understand," the EAF representative stammered. "This must be a mistake."

"What is going on?" an unknown voice asked.

"Seems our buddy here can't pay," Graham aggressively accused.

Rapid footsteps. "I have to call someone."

"…Take your time."

We all smiled with the results, except Jag. We don't know if she's smiling at all.

Gabriel held Debits shoulder, almost laughing. "I knew you could do it, boy."

Debit was smiling from ear to ear. After Dunny hacked the comms, he also gave us access to their bank accounts. What Debit has to do is to triple the amount in representative's proof of funds by depositing a bad check over and over again. There, Debit called the bank about the problem. The bank then has to freeze everything so that they could clean the mess.

"Will the freeze hold?" I asked.

"Sir," Debit said, proud of himself, "it'll take weeks before they can figure out what's happening."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Damn outstanding."

From the bug, someone was speaking in heated Arabic. Probably through a phone. "Is there a problem?"

Silence again. "Mr. Stavropoulos," the rep began. "If we could arrange another meeting, we could get you the money desired."

"…No."

The rep cleared his throat. "This is all fixa-"

"I gave you enough." Footsteps. "I let you arrange the date, the time, the place, and now the only gratitude you could give me is to show up empty handed?" He stopped. "That's not how we do business here."

"You are making a big mistake. This is two billion we are discussing."

"So where is it?"

"We don't have it now, but-"

"The whole purpose of a sale is that two parties could get what they want. You want the guns? I want the money. You don't have it, your pal here doesn't have it… For all I know you're wasting my time here."

Silence. "The money is there. We will give it to you on a later date."

"That doesn't work that way!" We all jolted back at his outcry. "This ship needs to go to a port an hour ago and I we both know we can't work around on the schedules. The transaction must happen now, so where the hell is my goddamn money?!" Again, silence. "We're done here. Get out of my ship."

"I believe those circumstances are unacceptable." We grew nervous as we heard a dozen guns cocking. "Here is another proposition. You leave us with the cargo, and we let you live. And maybe we'll send you the money along the way, just for the sake of our friendship."

"Tempting… tempting… I like the effort you're putting in to, but I have to decline. See this?" We heard a lot of shuffling on the other side followed by a pin falling. "This is a remote detonator on a dead man switch. You kill me; you blow up this ship and the bridge above us. How old is that thing? About a hundred-fifty years?"

"This guy must have practice +1+," Gabe inquired.

"Foolish," the rep said. "You will die with us."

"If a sale means I'm going to lose, then I'll make sure that _everyone_ loses. It works with nuclear weapons. It works with me. Now leave my ship." It took almost a whole minute before we could hear the guns holstering. Footsteps followed, and then a door opening.

"You will regret this!" the rep angrily said.

"Good luck at the next bidding!" The door closed.

"This is your time to shine, Jackie," Gabe said, patting my back. "Knock 'em dead."

I sighed and got up. Opening the door, I looked around the hallway to see if they're all gone. There was none, other than the screeching of wheels outside. Feeling confident, I gently closed the door after everyone exited. Gabe waved goodbye and walked the opposite direction in order to spread out. After they're gone, I made sure my holster is loose. I want to pull it out my pistol as soon as I need to. And hopefully, I don't need to.

I walked towards the bridge area and breathed for a few seconds. Once I'm confident enough, I opened the door. "I said get out!" Gray shouted. He was about to pull out his gun, but stopped midway when he got a look at me.

"…Sir?" Graham said, raising an eyebrow and not an inch away from his holster. He's surprised, no doubt about that. Nevertheless, he controlled whatever urges he has right now.

I gently closed the door and walked towards a chair. I gestured to it. "May I?" Slowly, he nodded. I could feel all the dust and rust that caked this rickety thing, but damn it Jack, be professional for once.

Crossing my legs, I looked out the window to… whatever it is outside (it's as if whoever was in charge on cleaning duty was left behind when the ship first sailed). I sighed. "I got a whole platoon of people with less screen time and even lesser backgrounds tasked on taking over the ship." I drummed my fingers on the windowsill. I then faced him. "Lieutenant Graham, right?"

"Yes," he curtly answered.

I hummed. "Watchpoint: Oscar Alpha+2+?" He nodded again. "Where's your platoon? Are they over there?" I pointed outside.

"No, sir." It looks like Graham calmed down a little, although his hand hasn't moved from the butt of his pistol. "They're just crew. Libyans, most of them."

"And your men…?"

"Garrisoned at Oscar Alpha."

"Do they know any of this?" I gestured around me. He paused, and then shook his head. He didn't breathe another word. Shrugging, I went back looking outside. "Those characters that I mentioned earlier? They're coming. Soon." I look back at him. "We won't kill you, of course, and I don't want _any_ of this coming out either. So…" I crossed my legs. "…How about a little heart to heart? If I like what you say, I'll let you submit your resignation letter. I'll promote a guy to take your place. But if you close yourself too much, well… I'll see you somewhere _secluded_."

His nose flared. "You promise you won't touch my men?"

"In degrees of your honesty."

Graham stared outside for a moment before moving his eyes back at me. "Fine."

I waved for him to take a sit in front of me. Once we both got comfortable, I then put my skills to work. "How long have you've been doing this?" I asked.

He licked his lips. "About seven months."

"What happened, then? What started it?"

"It started many months before that. Last year was the pirate boom."

I nodded. "I remember."

"The Mediterranean Command feared that it would reach our seas soon, so they requested HQ for more Druids in order to increase our patrols. _You_ rejected it." He stopped, waiting for me.

"I'm interrogating you, not the other way around. Continue."

Graham shrugged. "Well, a yacht got attacked shortly after. Then a fishing ship. Then a cargo ship…. You could imagine how we felt. We were recruited to do something meaningful to the world, and we couldn't do anything." His eyes were boring into mine.

"Go on."

He breathed in. "Every navy across the Mediterranean are in panic when the situation grew out of control. And Overwatch is just there, sitting with hands on their asses. But…" He stopped fiddling. "The Spanish came to us one day and donated some equipment. A couple of speed boats and a heli." He crossed his legs. "It's not much, barely anything, but that's where I got the idea. Since we can't get our equipment from the proper channels, why not through donations?

"Both sides are donating to each other so we could keep patting each of our asses. Both sides aren't happy what they got, the quality and quantity; I mean, you really thought a few thousand archaic plasma rifles would make a difference?"

"In the right hands," I countered.

He nodded. "In the right hands, maybe. But the Omnics are ever evolving. Who knows? They might make plasma obsolete in a decade or two +3+. People want a little more _oomph_. The Omnic Crisis is still fresh in everyone's mind, and there are armed forces around the world out there willing to eradicate all versions of them if they have the power to."

"And you thought handing them faulty tech is that _power_? You know more than I that these people can't handle the sort of tech we produce in our labs. If we couldn't make it work, what makes you think they could?"

Graham leaned forward. "Have you seen the next generation helicopters in France? Have you seen those metal chicken walkers parading at Seoul? Face it, sir. Overwatch has been falling behind. Every nation around the globe have started getting independent from us. It's only a matter of holding the world together long enough for individual nation states to inherit it."

"It doesn't change the fact that you're selling stuff that isn't yours. I don't care if it benefits the org; what we do with those techs is under my prerogative and mine only."

"And what do you say about the abductions? The ship sinkings?"

I shook my head. "There are just things in this world that are more important than whatever's going on in this theater."

"More important than innocent lives, it seems," he venomously said. He flared his nose. "So now what? Do I go? Do I stay?"

"I still have some… curiosities that needs illumination." I reached down in my pocket for my phone. After few flickings, I then showed it to him. "Tell me if you recognize anything." I carefully watched his eyes.

He peered into the screen. "No, I don't recognize her." I flicked it again. There's confusion on his face. "No." I flicked it again. "No... No... Nothing." Confusion. Confusion. Irritation. "Wait a minute." Anger.

Graham immediately stood up and pulled out his gun. I just pocketed my phone as he pointed his piece at me. "What the hell is this?!" he yelled.

"Relax."

"Relax? Relax?!" He aimed the barrel between my eyes as soon as I stand. "My only crime here is smuggling, here me?! I'm not going to let you blemish my nam-"

I slapped the barrel, forcing it to fire away from me. I then delivered a punch into his solar plexus and a left hook to his skull (I don't want him dead, after all). After he fell down to the ground, I caught his pistol midair and methodically dissembled his pistol.

I raised a finger at my ear. "Esper-Actual, I interrogated the Tango. It's a negative, how copy?"

"Hard," Gabe responded. "Is that an absolute affirm?"

Graham started to moan on the floor. I walked towards him. "It's a hard affirm, Esper-Actual." I grabbed his head and banged it against the metal. Several times. "He's not Talon. At least not that he's aware off." I stood up and headed towards the door. "I'm leaving the rest of the investigations to you, over."

"Roger that, Overlord. Dunny is waiting for you in the exfil area, over and out."

+1+ Everyone in the arms trade knows the mark of a professional is the Blow and Burn. They wire all the goods to explode in case a deal goes awry. Better safe than sorry, as it were.

+2+ It is located at the Red Sea.

+3+ He is not wrong, as Soldier 76 will soon experience these new countermeasures firsthand in the near future.

* * *

I could see Dunny leaning against the van when I walked over the gangplank. He was flicking his phone. "Reyes is an excellent leader," he said as I got near. "Infiltrate the boat, be ready to kill everybody, hack the accounts, force Graham to spill his secrets willingly…" The lenses of his gas mask glimmered. "Makes me wonder why they chose you over him."

I shrugged and grinned. "You remember what they said, right? There's no need for a militaristic commander in a time of peace. Besides, Gabe got a good five years on his belt. He fits with you guys just fine."

"They said it was because you're approachable, soft-spoken, friendly looking..." He looked up from his phone. "You know… white."

My smile disappeared. "Get in the van, _Dunny_."

Nodding, we entered the vehicle and drove under the dark-orange night sky. I took one last hard look at the ship as another twenty Blackwatch operatives boarded it. I trust Gabe enough to take care of the rest. Somehow, I felt kinda sorry to the lieutenant.

"Oh yeah." Dunny began. "Boss-man wants to give you something. It's in the glove compartment."

"What is it?" I pulled the handle to see a paper bag.

He shrugged. "He said he'd kill me if I peek."

Opening the bag, I cried, "Sweet!" With a grin, I pulled out a bottle of Gatorade.

"Sports drinks?" Dunny said with a hint of disappointment.

Red Bull, Monster, Cobra, Pocari Sweat, Full Throttle, Voltage, and loads more. I cracked one open. "The guys back at base always tells me to lay off the stuff." I take a careful sip, letting the blue salt and sweet fluids marinate my tongue. I toasted the air. "God bless that bastard."

He tilted his head as we turned on a corner. "I don't see the reason why you _can't_ drink them."

"It's not that I can't digest it +1+." I swirled the bottle a little. "It's mostly because it's bad for my image." I took another sip and smacked my mouth as soon as I finished. "Won't want the kids think energy drinks will make them as strong as I am."

"Yeah, people acting like you would be a problem alright."

"Okay, you got a problem?" I snapped. "Just say it." And I was in a good mood too.

He slowly turned the wheel, taking his time. "You're not my favorite person, _Commander_. I knew I'd hate you if we meet, but wow… Safe to say, my expectations to you have never been so low."

I replaced the cap. "Where'd all this hatred come from?" I shoved the bag inside my coat pocket.

He sighed. "You do realize you put us all into this mess. I never wanted to be a Blackwatch guy. Most of us didn't. Sure, some of us got sold into the honor and valor and crap, but what about the rest?"

"I don't know. Ask the people you killed." I crossed my arms. "Didn't Reyes gave you the choices?"

"That's the problem." We slowed down at a red light. "I never had the choice." He shook his head. "Most of us didn't. I mean, you realize what's the obvious answer right?"

"I don't need this right now." I looked outside. "Keep your thoughts to yourself, will ya?"

Nevertheless, he continued. "How can you be so damn ignorant when you're dealing with us? All of us wants out of this gig, you know."

"That's what every criminal wants nowadays," I mumbled.

"'Crap, it's Blackwatch!' 'Don't look at them.' 'They're filthy.'" He breathed. "While we bust our asses picking up your dirty laundry, Overwatch gets to save the world." He elbowed me, which was annoying. "Hey, how does it feel like saving the world? 'Bet it feels like hot chicks and guns, huh?"

I talked through my teeth. "Stow it and drive, Dunny."

"Answer me this, Jackie." I could feel an artery popping. "How is Overwatch going to save the world now? You got thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of Omnics protesting and rioting at one side of the world, and armies of anti-toaster nutjobs at the othe—Oh wait! I forgot!" He chuckled. "They're right outside Egypt!"

"It's not about saving the world," I opened up finally. God, that sounds impossible if you ask me. "For what it is worth, Overwatch is just there to protect _parts_ of the world."

"And what about the rest? Should they fend for themselves while you get chained to richer countries?"

I shrugged. "You're free to check our policies if you're that curious. It's all over the internet."

Dunny scoffed, pushing the pedal as the light turned green. "Whatever. I can't wait to drop your white ass for the sole reason of waiting again." We never spoke again.

At the hotel parking lot, I removed the seatbelt. "Dunny," I began. "Why don't you go back to Reyes and tell him that I'm going to deal with the _other_ problem."

He sighed. "What changed your mind? You have someone else to do the drop?"

I opened the door. "For starters, I can't find myself trusting you. Just tell your boss that I could do the rest." I exited the van and waved. "Have a good night."

"Hey." I stopped to look at him, drumming the wheel with his fingers. "For your information. I didn't kill those Pakistanis." He reached out and closed the door before driving away.

Sighing, I made my way towards my room. Guards greeted me along the way, but not much else. At the front of my presidential suit, I slid my card into the slot. I carefully removed my boots before entering. It was all dark, but it was made manageable with my night vision. I slowly walked up to the sleeping form of Fareeha and pulled her blanket over her shoulders. With a little pat on her head, I headed towards the computer. I have a congratulate someone on getting a promotion.

+1+ For your information, Jack and his enhanced digestive tracts can find nourishment to the common flora and fauna. From mossy tree barks to raw badger meat, anything is possible with Morrison's diamond-hard teeth. How it taste, only he knows.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up from the sound of water sloshing behind me. Flashes of colors were immediately in my view, and then I realized it was the map of swamp. After sliding the helmet off my head, I was greeted by the sudden darkness, save for a few strands of silvery-green light from the cockpit and beyond. I then looked around to see Stragg with both his arms in the water.

"Lost something?" I asked while resting my head atop my propped arm. I placed the other one on the yoke in front of me.

He grunted as he fumbled in the dark watery floor. "Yeah," he answered while the oxygen mask he's wearing muffles his voice. Since there's two men breathing from the same irreplaceable stale air underwater, he was forced to use the ones he had from air tanks from the back of his diving suit. "Damn thing jumped from my hand."

Whatever it is that he's looking for; I won't be able to help anyway. Not while I'm hooked on these wires at least. Looking through the IHADSS again, I asked Gory, "Any change?"

"They're minutes late in the last interval," my armor answered. "Nothing too damning. It may be due to the super-storm brewing down south."

"Damn. Really?" I thought the weather would clear up for this week. Plus, I don't have the equipment to deal with a super-storm.

"Uh-huh. I can't estimate the time on impact with the sensor data alone though."

"That's fine. Keep tracking those Helix guys for now." I'll cross that bridge once I get there, it seems.

Stretching my neck a little, trying to forget the fortuitous event, I focused on the IHADSS. The one thing you have to learn about surveillance is that it takes a lot of patience before something interesting happens. What you have to sacrifice is a sore ass, heavy eyes and the general boredom. If it helps, the fact that the people up above the air have it worse, especially with their commanders blasting their ears, gives me something else to cherish about.

I raised a hand. "Hey, you have something to eat there?" I asked Stragg while staring into the multitude of blips.

Under his mask, he chuckled in his hoarse voice. "Not sharing, Soldier. I packed just enough for myself." It makes me wonder how prepared Stragg is. Just enough isn't always enough, especially when he's in his home court. "What? You hungry?"

"Never mind." I was back on watching blips and shapes on my radar.

"No really. You hungry? I think I have some ABOMM's (Aircrew Build to Order Meal Module) that I found here in the VTOL. Hold up, I'll look for it."

I snorted. "Nah. Bet those stuffs' been here 'fore the robots invaded +1+." I shifted on my seat in order to let some blood flowing through my ass.

"Suit yourself," he said finally before I could hear a bench creaking.

Out of curiosity, and boredom, I asked, "What were you doing back there?"

"Cleaning my pistol." And that was the end of _that_. He didn't add anything more, so I kept quiet and let the sleep take me. That is until he spoke again. "I noticed you don't have a sidearm."

I lolled my head. "So?"

"…Why don't you have one?"

I shrugged. "Personal preference, I guess. I already got a good rifle, and I technically have no business in shooting anywhere within a pistol range."

"But you need a gun if they get that close, right?"

"I'd run away first." And then I realized something. I craned my head. "Wait, are you offering me one?"

"Actually, I want to _sell_ you one."

I returned looking back at the cracked windows and the strings of luminescence. "No thanks."

"Come on, man!" he whined. "Help a brother out. I'm gonna need some cash once all of this is over, and I'll even throw in a discount. Whaddya say?"

"Don't you have an, I don't know, an untraceable bank account?" I held up my hand. "Yeah, yeah. Stupid question." I perked up a little. "But you do have contingencies, right?"

"I have a money launderer out there cleaning my money, but it'll take months before he could transfer it to me."

I clicked my tongue. "Damn shame." I raised a finger. "Tell you what. I'll wait for the heat to cool down, and _then_ I'll consider buying. You got a place to stay after?"

"I'm still thinking about that."

I shook my head. "That doesn't earn my vote of confidence, Stragg. How are we supposed to set deals now?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I come up with one." With that said, I returned to fiddling with the yoke. "Hey, I got an idea. Would you let me crash in one of your safe houses?"

I laughed. "Hell no." That's just a nightmare waiting to happen. "Why don't _you_ get a safe house?"

"I promise to clean and everything. You won't even notice I was there."

"And I won't even notice if anything was missing, too," I grumbled.

It seems like he heard it all the way from here as he scoffed at my comment +2+. "It's not like I want to steal your Overwatch thingamajigs. You know that the black market nowadays offers guns and armor better than what Overwatch has ten years ago, right?"

I rubbed my forehead. "That's not the point, Stragg. I don't like the thought of people thinking that I'm connected to you."

"You mean you dealing with an illegal weapons manufacturer would smear your already tarnished reputation?"

"Funny." I sighed. "What I mean is that your life would be in danger because of me." I held my hand before he could say anything. "You'll be in more danger than _now_. I could imagine your fair share of enemies out there, but the ones I'm facing are... are people you don't want to meet. Trust me."

I could water sloshing softly behind me. "I know I've been supplying you for years now, but can you tell me why you're trying to protect me?" I kept silent. "I know it's not about the guns and ammo. You can easily buy them from other dealers. Probably a lot cleaner than. Tell me, what makes me so special?"

I kept my mouth shut for a while, thinking what I have to say next. Resting the side of my head on my knuckle, I asked slowly, "Are you sure you want to know? What I'm going to say to you isn't going to be pleasant."

I waited for an answer. "I believe you at least know what kind of lifestyle that I have, right?" I nodded, although he probably can't see it from there. "Once you work in intelligence, you'd get the idea there are information out there that's worth fighting for; worth going to Hell for. I signed up for it, have some few regrets down the line, but I know what it feels like to put your life at risk just to learn." He breathed deeply. "So, yeah. I really want to know."

Fiddling with the yoke, I sighed. "Sir?" Gory started.

"Gory…" I quietly warned.

My chest warmed up a little. "You do know that you roped me into this mess, Soldier. If I'm going to drown here with you, I better need an explanation too."

Scratching my cheek, I let the flight stick go and gently placed my hands on my lap. I breathed slowly. "Let's just say… I'm here to repay a debt."

"I don't got no debt with you," he said behind me. "What are you talking about?"

I crossed my arms. "That's all you'll get from me." I don't need him second-guessing me, not while we're in this critical hour. "I'll tell you once we meet up again, okay?"

"No," he answered with a beat of heat in his town. "That's _not_ okay. I mean, I thought we're about to get to know each other; build bridges, you know?"

I shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, I'll give you a week in one of safe houses. Good for you?" I didn't wait for his reply. "Once we meet up, everything's going to make sense once we settle those bridges. You can have my word on that."

Angry splashes were heard from behind. "Yeah, because your word is _all_ I have."

Ignoring his comment, I then whispered to Gory, "But I can tell you about it, at least."

"Is it because I'm the only one here who can't leave you?" it replied.

I cupped my hand on my chin and smiled. "That could be possible." I then cleared my throat. "Where to start…? Well years ago, I met Stragg at… Are we flooding?"

+1+ An ABOMM has a storage life of 5-10 years. Soldier: 76 could still gather nutrition from it, albeit at the expense of his sense of taste.

+2+ To be fair, the two are in enclosed space. It is bound to echo in there.

* * *

Well, that's got to be a reasonable explanation. Are we flooding? While lying down on this couch, eyes on the ceiling, I could see water reflections up on the ceiling. Like the ones you'll see at a pool. It felt calming, waking up for a light show. At first, I thought it was a cool feature that the hotel added. That little reality got broken up at the sound of dripping water.

Pulling the blanket off of me, I twisted my body to sit up. My feet recoiled immediately at the sense of what appears to be ice-cold water on the floor. I looked down and it really is! Holy crap, how the hell did this all happen?!

Barefooted, I walked over the wet floor under the darkness. "Ah, Commander," Athena said overhead. "Shall I open the curtains?"

"Please." Gently, the curtains behind me opened up. The sun's already up and burning, giving enough light to make the water reflections brighter. I raised my head. "Can you tell me why the floor's flooding?"

"You may ask the guest. She's in the bathroom."

I began walking again. "What's she doing there?"

"Commander, it is impolite to ask what a woman is doing while in the bathroom. You should know better. Even if you are a ranking officer."

"Please don't lecture me," I growled. God help us if there's a _lady_ planting a bomb in a restroom.

There was light under the bathroom door, and I heard a lot of slushing. I was about to touch the door pad when the entrance suddenly slid open. I turned my head down at a sweating Fareeha, and up again as soon as I saw her lilac panties. "H-hi, um, I mean, hello… sir!"

I crossed my arms. "You got one chance to come clean."

Her shoulders slumped, eyes down in shame. "I clogged the toilet."

"…How?"

She twiddled with her fingers. "Weeell, I saw all of these buttons. I don't know which one is the flush +1+ and I kinda… broke it."

I sighed. "I'll call someone to fix it up. Athena?"

"Yes?"

"Can you-"

"Sir!" Raj shouted as he entered the room. He almost dropped his tablet when he saw the mess. "What the hell…"

"Eyes up," I said as I walked towards him. He gave a crisp salute as I approached. "Something urgent?"

"Uh, yes." He held up his tablet up. "The meeting's up in an hour. You better get dressed, sir."

"Oh, yeah." I sighed. "The meeting. I'll get right on it." I was about to turn around when I remembered something. "Wait, Raj?"

He stood at attention. "Sir?"

"Perfect timing." I clasped his shoulders. "I need you on a special mission, soldier. There's—Fareeha, where are your pants?"

"It's wet!" she shouted from across the room.

"Then wrap yourself around a towel or something!" I turned back to Raj. "There's a toilet that needs unclogging. Athena will walk you through step by step. Isn't that right Athena?"

"I have the best solutions available," it proudly states.

"See? Everything's going to be fine."

"Umm, what?" Raj said with honest confusion.

"Hop right to it." I patted his shoulder and headed for my closet, mumbling to myself, "And Jack Morrison singlehandedly avoids toilet duty once again. Hooah."

After taking my new clothes and leaving the two to dust, I exited the suite and rented another room, with my own money, so I could use its bathroom. Once I'm done freshening up, I headed towards the designated room. The halls on the way there is empty, as to be expected. No one with proper authorization can walk here. But after a while, I met my escorts along the way, as protocol decreed.

"Sir!" Agent Marlin greeted, walking by my side. He's wearing the ceremonial blue OCU (Overwatch Combat Uniform) +2+ and has his rifle ready slung over his shoulder. "Someone saw you coming down the bar last night." He smiled, gleaming white. "You could've at least invite me."

"Marlin," I sighed. "Haven't I told you that I can't get drunk?"

"Hey, if you we try hard enough, maybe we'll get somewhere, eh?"

"What my partner meant," Agent Lundkwist began, falling beside Marlin, "is that an escort wouldn't hurt." She then gave a mean look at her partner.

"Yeah, I was about to say that," he defended himself. "Seriously, commander, next time you hit town, think of me." He held his chin up.

"Look, I wasn't there for the drinks. I was there to meet a friend. Privately. I mean, haven't Athena forwarded this report to you two?"

"Yes," Lundkwist answered. "But we cannot ensure your safety unless we're there. Let's not forget the incident yesterday."

"Which was a false alarm." I smiled a little. "Reinhardt made it clear about this, right?" I hope he does.

"It doesn't explain why we can't guard your room."

"I believe you two could handle it from the job just as well from the elevator."

"I believe we do too, sir," Agent Marlin said. "But if we don't do our jobs _our_ way, it could either be your ass or mine. And I like my ass just fine. Even _she_ prefers it this way."

This was followed by a whelp of pain behind me, as usual followed by a whispered argument. Knowing Marlin, I bet he enjoys every moment of it. Besides their questionable behaviors, these two are still top-notch soldiers. At least that's how my experience went. Nevertheless, they know their duties and I can trust them to fulfill all of them.

Near the place of the meeting, reporters and cameramen were everywhere. There was no moment uncaptured and no eyes un-flashed. And, of course, the endless amount of questions to which they have to shove a mic at my face even so much I try to _look_ at them. The guards kept them at bay, at least.

There's a guy on the podium trying, without avail, to herd the crowd. Behind the podium were the _others_. Important people such as the various leaders of the AFHL (Allied Front for Human and Labor), the Egyptian delegates, some men from the African Union, and… Where is he?

I tried looking around, but I couldn't find the general. Huh. Maybe Ghiyath finally gave in and retired. Damn shame, but I wouldn't blame him for it. Looking at the small group, I wondered who replaced him.

"Jack Morrison!" someone said behind me. I turned around to see General Olamide's smiling ivory face. "It seems like you haven't aged the last time I met you."

I smiled in kind, walking forward to the Supreme Commander of the AFHL. "And you seem to lost that gut!" I playfully punched his belly, and we both laughed. "And, uh, laser surgery," I added, pointing at the lack of warts on his face. God, they used to pucker out like mountains.

He nodded. "Well, if I can afford it, I might as well get rid of them. I know my wife agrees."

I raised a brow. "Oh. You settled down, did you?" I forgot about his missing ring finger. It used to be rude to look at it. "How's the life of a family man?"

He laughed. "Terrible! It feels like an iron ball is chained to your ankle! And you wouldn't believe the _stress_ that I had when the children came along."

"I can feel relate to that," I mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said with a smile.

"Ah, it's always been _nothing_ to you." He looked away for a little, putting his hands behind him. "Nevertheless, this is the price for marriage, and I never thought of regretting it."

We continued our conversation while the two goof balls behind me stand guard. I then slowly noticed how blaringly bright the room is. It doesn't take a detective to deduce that a lot of cameras are pointing at our way. To be honest, I'm more concerned on what they'll take on two Crisis war veterans and, frankly, I'll have no control whatsoever on the things they're going to be saying.

Before long, the coordinators called for a group photo for the public eye. It gets strange to be smiling and touching shoulders with people who you only met and people you haven't seen a long time. Once we're done exposing ourselves and get trendy in Twitter, we all went to somewhere private, leaving the outside world behind.

Through the door is a large room with a series of tables, each for the assigned party. The table we're sitting on is going to beside the AFHL's. I felt a heavy hand at my shoulder and found Reinhardt waving at me.

"Sorry I was late for the party."

I shrugged. "Eh. To be fair, this party's going to suck anyway."

Me and Reinhardt took our seats while our bodyguards are a few feet behind us. They got their weapons confiscated, but that doesn't mean they've lost their lethality.

Once we all got settled in, we were given tablets detailing the situation at hand (ex: the parties involved, the order of speakers, the objective of the meeting, etc.) One by one, we gave introductions to each other and started with our first speakers.

+1+ To be fair, the toilet she used was meant for adults. With disabilities, (a foresight of the management in case the hotel would include war veterans). There are more than one toilet inside there, by the way. Apparently, she chose to pick the one that was the shortest.

+2+ The OCU Ceremonial Blue is the standard dress uniform for all combat-related personnel in the organization. The operative word is 'dress', because no sane agent would actually wear a blue duster in the middle of a battlefield. They are mostly worn on occasions such as bodyguard duty, public showing, _espirit de corps_ , and Halloween parties.

* * *

"Those insufferable cunts!" Olamide screamed, throwing his glass against the wall.

"Yes," I said while leaning against the wall. "They're the cunts. Not the guy who demanded the desecration of an UNESCO World Heritage site."

He continued to pace around the bar nonetheless. I paid the management to have the place to ourselves and have them list it as a 'Happy Hour'. No one is happy, and only two guys are trying to get drunk.

"I meant investigations," he pressed, getting another glass. "Investigations! All of them made it sound like I'm going to tear the temple down!"

"Words tend to mutate from each mouth to each ear," Reinhardt, the other drunk, solemnly said. I let him drink this time since he's getting a hard time lately. "I missed the days when things like talking were much simpler."

"Believe me," Olamide started, "I wish I'm inside a stock exchange rather than an minute back there +1+." He poured his liquor and downed it in one gulp. "Can you tell me what I said back there, Rein?"

He shook his head. "Don't look at me. We assigned Morisson for that kind of garbage."

"And I enjoy picking people someone else's trash," I said, pouring another round of orange soda and smiling.

Olamide turned on me. "I don't see you defending me."

My face soured. "Oh, I'm sorry. I never thought I added babysitting in my resume. You have tanks at the border for Christ's sakes. Planes near the Egyptian airspace. And after all of that, you come here and make **demands**?"

"Were you deaf _and_ blind for the past few months?" he countered. "I've been informing the public of this thing. Did they listen?"

"Olamide," Reinhardt started. "The people saw what you are _about_ to do. It doesn't matter how noble your intentions are; if you have artillery pointed at a city, people are bound to panic."

"Gah! You think I want this?" He turned his sights on me, which in turn I glowered back. "What kind of person I am to you?"

I stared at him. "I think you're a disillusioned old prick, who couldn't even control his own subordinates and think that parading your men around like peacocks around innocent people makes your _mob_ relevant again."

I could see his jaw twitching. "And I think you're an exploitive little man, who wants the world to think that he's noble and fair, which in fact he's waiting in the sidelines to stab his allies in the back just so it would improve his fragile image."

It didn't occur to me that I was marching towards him. "We were never allies-"

"ENOUGH!"

Even with Rein's massive body blocking my view, I could still feel Olamide's eyes boring through him. Aiming them at me. The bar's gone so silent that I could feel my blood veins rushing.

"Jack," Rein endearingly said, turning his gait towards me. His gentle eye met mine. "You should know better to treat our brother in arms this way. By the end of the day, we must learn to respect each other. He has fought with us, he has nearly died with us, and that both of you does not deserve to spur hateful things. We must not forget that we trusted our lives to each other."

Then he turned around. "And you. Even though we fought side by side, witness the loss and bask in victory together, you have no right to use our friendship for something this sensitive."

"You said it yourself. I saved your lives," he said, pointing at us. "I could have left all of you, given that it would endanger my boys if I try. The Omnics would be crushing your bones right now if I have not found you in the savannah."

Rein stepped forward. "You did. You can't change my mind and my memory that you did." He leaned down on him. "But we are soldiers. Those deeds you did for us are not enough to avert from our duties. I speak for everyone at Overwatch that we would rather die than to be pawns to your plans."

"You two do not understand!" He slammed his glass, spilling its contents all over the table. He furiously pointed at the window. "There is an Omnic general, a leader of some kind, hiding in that temple. If we don't act now, the attacks will continue and many people will die." Slowly, he took his eyes away from us and stared at the air. "My people… My men… My boys…"

"I'm sorry, friend," Reinhardt gently said. "But we have duties. Policies. Our actions, even our words alone can lead to great consequences. You have to understand."

"I know," he solemnly said, taking a seat and grabbing his glass. "I know…"

I'd be lying if I said that this was still the man right in front of me was an ordinary citizen who turned into an inspiring leader. Look at him… He's a mess. All of a sudden, I don't feel angry anymore. "Reinhardt?" I called. "I'd like to talk to him. Alone."

He didn't even turn. "…Are you sure?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

He sighed and turned away, leaving his toxin l half-full. "You two be civil now."

I waited until the door lid slid closed. "I want to know what's in your mind," I said.

The old general focused at the view outside. I followed his gaze and, to be honest, even with the wisp of smog and dust, Cairo's quite a sight. "You might not like it."

I pulled a seat, facing the windows. "Try me. But I want some honesty, for now." More jets are flying across the clear sky now, unfortunately.

Something clinked behind me. "I have to look strong for my people." That's the one thing I feared the most. I let him continue. "…I served my people for more than a decade now. When they saw my men on the streets, they came up and give them flower wreathes and fruits. They were small gifts, but the men loved it.

"It gave us hope, a responsibility. We raised this army for the survival of Africa when no one helped. That was our sole objective back then. Fight the robots. Now that we became heroes, we… expanded. We spread our troops across the continent, build working bases, establish borders, form proper ranks, set up recruiting stations, give everyone proper training… like a real army would.

"As soon as we finished, we started working. We first have to hunt the last of the Omnic resistance. Go deep into the jungles and make sure they stay deactivated. At the age of peace, we reached out to those who are most affected by the Crisis. We made sure every road and every street is secure. Helped them build their homes." He stopped.

"You all did good," I said, keeping my eye.

"We did! We did…" I could hear him sipping. "What we did was good. Good to the people. But, nowadays, that was another world. I can't imagine what that place was like, because I couldn't believe the place I'm here right now." His voice is getting louder. "Omnic Rights," he sneered. "Those fools. Fools! All of them!"

Another scary thought? This man hasn't changed. Damn, if I had known this conversation is going to lead this way, I'd rather take my chances on fighting the AFHL, the Egyptian Army and all the Omnics in this continent combined with a flashlight. Without batteries, of course.

"Since when did tools have a place in this planet other than as tools?" I remained silent. "It's those people. The so called 'free thinkers', poisoning everyone's minds!"

"Everyone has the right to speak," I stated.

"I know, but they speak of protecting the same robots that has **killed** my men. They ambush them and afterwards they hide behind a wall of ingrates. They cry that they are 'oppressed' and have been 'prosecuted', while they have blood on their metal hands +2+!" I kept silent, even though my anger's returning. "I cannot let them go unpunished."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You know, this is why we can't be seen together. All this Omnic persecution just-"

"—Stains your pristine organization?" he finished. "You are not without sins too. I know you have men at that temple. You're shielding the very coward who commands the robots!"

"Okay, I've had enough," I said, standing up.

"Why are you hiding the truth, Morrison?" I could hear him standing up too while I was fixing my collar. "Why do you defend them?"

I turned towards him. "I'm not defending **anyone** , General."

"You can't hide that thing for long." I could almost swear that he's sober. "They all listened to me back in that room. Eventually, we'll have an investigation and you can avoid a disaster if you comply just give in. In this time of age, we need transparency."

"What you really need is a head check." I gulped down my soda and settled the glass down at the counter. "If the United Nations said so, we'll do it +3+. Before that, you need more than the entirety of Africa to move me."

"You're a fool, Jack," he told me as I passed by.

Before I went out the door, I turned my head and said, "You wanna know why I'm so good at keeping the peace? I'm not a 'free thinker', I'm not an Omnic, and I'm not _you_. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lunch date with a _hot_ number." I bowed and opened the door.

"Is it as we have feared?" Reinhardt asked as soon as I got out.

I checked to see that the hallways are empty. I'll have to give some credit to the two goofballs. "Pretty much." Reinhardt groaned. "Asshole's too deep now. He can't even trust us. He didn't even said anything about the Reorganization thing." The African Defense Reorganization was an idea created by some college kid a few years after the Crisis.

It was an idea of an amalgamation of all armed forces in Africa, which will unite the efforts in preventing the same tragedies like the Omnic Crisis. Oh, and the author said it _might_ lead to unifying all the nations. The thesis couldn't hold water +4+, but Olamide got a whiff of it. One little iteration was added, being that the AFHL would be the center of that amalgamation. With a little suggestion that Gen. Olamide would lead be the first to lead it. Nobody liked it +5+.

Rein scratched his greying beard. "That does not bode well. Not even once?"

I shook my head. "Yeah, I'm as shocked as you are." And he made it a big deal about it in front of the public for months now. He even answered questions about it at the reporters a while ago. "He kept moaning about how he needed—well, how the world needed an investigation at the Temple." I sighed. "Got anything new from the analysis?"

He shook his head. "Nein. It hasn't moved _or_ contacted anyone or anything since we last saw it. And I'm not convinced that it will do anything now."

"Damn. I just wished Operation: Soaring Umbrella gave us something. Anything. Just to shut him up." Soaring Umbrella _did_ produced some fresh leads, but it will take time to capitalize on it. Time we don't have. "On your best judgment, what do you think the General wants out of this, Rein?"

He cupped his chin, thinking intently. "That's not something I could infer easily. He may have every intention to stop the attacks right now, but that would seem too honest. He may be doing what everyone guessed; have one final win against the Omnics and take Africa as its emperor, but that would be too pretentious of us.

"But at the end of the day, he wants that Temple. And our mission is to prevent him, or anyone, from compromising it."

"I'm aware of that, but…" I crossed my arms. "I just hate the whole 'defend the Temple' thing we have here. Oh, speaking of which," I said as I pulled out my phone and scrolled through a list. "I got a list of candidates for the new warden."

"The higher ups approved?"

I nodded. "It's a pain in the ass, but I got them to think my way. Soon, we can effectively re-task our assets for something beneficial. Give the list a look-see, would ya?" I swiped the screen and passed the list to Reinhardt's phone.

He checked his phone to see if he received it. "I don't know, Jack +6+. Assigning a PMC to guard something _this_ dangerous?"

"It's what the people wants. Well, what a select few of the people wants. It's their dime, their ball, and if the prisoner breaks out-" I shrugged, "—it's not our problem." I scratched my cheek. "Unless they call us, of course." I patted his shoulder. "Believe me, it's for the best."

He hesitated, but nodded anyway. "I will stand by you, but we have to see what becomes of our actions."

"Good." I brought up my watch. "My lunch date's going to be up. Better hurry. The lady doesn't like waiting after all." As I was about to go back to my room, Reinhardt grabbed my shoulder. "Something wrong?"

His eyes shifted. "It's just… it's Olamide." I listened. "If we don't deal with him soon-"

"We'll have a general assembly once we get back to HQ, don't worry." I huffed. "Believe me; I'm as worried about him as you do. But we can't do anything about it now."

He nodded. "I understand." I waited for him to talk more. I could feel that he has something in his mind, but I don't think I can press on it. I started heading for the elevators. "Another guess," he began as I walked away. "He might be thinking that his army has overstayed their welcome. That they felt that the people don't need so much soldiers in a time of peace. His aims for the Temple and the ADR may not be to attain power, but to stay relevant. Like you said."

That scares me even more.

+1+ Gen. Olamide used to be a real estate investor before the Omnic Crisis.

+2+ Although most of the cases Gen. Olamide have presented is still under strict investigation, some of these Omnics **do** take advantage of human naivety, with proof. The protesters have surrendered these Omnics nevertheless, but that has not stopped igniting Olamide's fuel line.

+3+ This assumption is in the attention of the international committee. However, priority dictates that this investigation is under the categorization of 'Slightly Concerning'. It will take years, probably decades, before a proper investigation can ensue.

+4+ It was so fallacious and innocuous that the college made jokes about it, for years. Suffice to say, the student fails to graduate without a workable thesis, but at least AFHL has given him a job as the chief quartermaster.

+5+ The African nations abhors the concept because it would likely lead to the absolution of their national identities. The military arms of those nations despises it, not only because that the good general has no training, but because it would undermine their boundaries, their chain of command, and all of their past military achievements, especially after what they all did in the Omnic Crisis. Their neighbors at the north hated it because it would pose a larger threat to their sovereignty; the United Nations hated it because it would cause international turmoil, and Overwatch hated it because it would mean a lesser budget in the future.

+6+ If you have plans to join the illustrious Overwatch organization, or in the military for that matter, we advise you to never, EVER, refer to your superior commander on their first names. The last guy who did that got reassigned to Outpost: Jakarta, and legend says that he stayed there until disbandment.

* * *

I stood in front of my own room and sighed as I dug into my pockets for my keycard. Only an hour left before the meeting resumes, and I need to relax. Sure, babysitting a teenager may not be the ideal way of relaxing, but at least Fareeha isn't someone who has the obligation to sic an army to kill me. And with Ana, I can negotiate on how many fingers she can cut.

"Officer present in the area," Athena announced as soon as I came in. The suite looks like how I first came in here, only with a wet floor, and a whole lot of humidity. Combined that with the teeth clenching temperatures, I was beginning to regret coming back here.

"At ease," I told Raj and Fareeha, who're standing in attention with rim rod backs. I faced my aide. "How'd it go?"

"I gave up and called the staff," Raj said with tired eyes. "Hid the VIP in your closet."

Ah, so that's why the girl's wearing pants several sizes larger than her.

I looked back at Raj and gave his shoulder a pat. "You accomplished your mission, and that's all that matters."

He nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"Now go order some food. Your pick." I faced the straight-faced Fareeha. "Anything special you want?"

"I'm good with anything, sir," she said.

"Get us some ice cream, alright?" I told Raj.

"At once, sir," he replied, giving out a salute before he headed toward the phone.

"Any unusual activities while I'm gone?" I asked Fareeha.

"No, sir! Nothing to report, sir!"

"Oh, good, good." I slumped over the couch and removed my boots. "You know, I'm going to need those pants back." She flustered a bit and then started unbuckling the belt. "Hey, hey, no! Just-just keep it there." I huffed and rested my head against the armrest, closing my eyes. "You don't have to take everything seriously, you know."

"Okay," she simply said. I felt her sitting at the other side of the couch. "Sir? When can I go home?"

"Prolly tonight. Your mother arranged a meet just this morning. We'll rent a car and take you there." I just need to report a good reason to why I have to drive in the middle of the night without escorts. And I don't think 'meet my bastard son' is a good excuse anymore. They probably got tired of that joke.

"Well, that's good, I guess. What am I going to say to my teachers? I never have an absent in my card before."

"Eh, I'll think of something." I'll probably leave it as it is. It beats the purpose of going incognito if an Overwatch agent asked her principal to erase a mark from her card. The act alone would almost certainly turn some heads.

We stayed silent for a while. I think Raj went out to wait for our food. Besides the light hum of the air conditioner and the occasional flapping of the plastic that covers the window hole, the room's pretty much silent. The TV isn't even on, which I'm thankful. I don't need another recap from the meeting we have a couple of hours ago. God knows how much I hate reminders.

"Sir?" Fareeha called out beside my propped feet.

"Uh-huh?"

"I think I know what I'm going to be like on Overwatch one day."

I groaned as I sat up. "Fareeha, I don't know. I've been running this org for a long time now, and you have no idea how hard it was. You should really, _really_ talk to your mother about this, you know?" And it will probably be just another headache for me if my 2iC's (Second in Command) kid gets end up in my command. Ana has enough hatred in her heart; most are related to me.

"Yeah, I know that, but…." She swung her legs. "I…" She mumbled something +1+.

"You want to be…?"

She faced me. "I want to pilot the Slipstream, sir."

I looked at her. "Wh-what? Why?"

She looked down. "Last night, I was thinking about Miss Oxton."

"Oh, crap!" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fareeha, last night I was out of line. I was having some nightmares from night to night, and I thought…" Someone can listen? That I could relieve some of the burden? "Look, I shouldn't have told you that story. Can't you just forget about it?"

She rubbed her arm. I waited for her to say something. She wouldn't even look at me in the eye. "Fareeha," I said as I grabbed my boots. "Just stop." I began putting them on. "You don't know who Lena is. She's-" Selfish? A braggart? A daredevil? A moron? I could describe Lena like that, because that's how exactly who she is when I interviewed her, even when she tried to hide it.

"This discussion is over," I said and headed off towards the door. I need to text to send Ana a text.

I leaned back against the closed door, huffing a sigh. I got a bit light headed there. Looking around, I saw Raj with a bellhop, who has our dinner, signing papers. They briefly turned their attention to me before going back to whatever it is they're doing. I turned my back against them, took out my phone and began tapping. In my experience, it's going to take less than ten minutes before she could reach it +2+.

By the time I finished, I turned around to see the two arguing.

"You have nothing to worry about," Raj reasoned to the bellhop while pulling his tray. "This is according to the commander's orders. Your manager has been informed of this, has she not?"

The bellhop gave out a smile. "No, I insist, sir. The hotel only gives quality services, even if it's as simple as setting up the plates."

"We appreciate that, but my superior specifically asked for privacy and security, and that means your stop ends here." Raj turned to me. "Isn't that right, si-"

"DOWN!" I screamed as soon as the bellhop lifted his arm for a haymaker. Raj, fortunately, reacted just enough to buckle his knees. The punch hit only air. Damn, if I had my pistol with me, I could've a clear shot from here.

Nonetheless, I was already on my way to assist him, but my aide was already spinning around for a reverse roundhouse kick. Black belts would be impressed by his technique, but impressiveness fell short when the kick was blocked with one arm. One _helluva_ arm. Didn't budge one bit.

The bellhop immediately grabbed Raj's leg and swung him across the room. I was already on the intruder as soon as Raj flew. I tried gaining the advantage by kicking the tray towards him, hoping it would at knock him out of balance. I left a sizable dent on the cart, but the guy was something else. He caught the tray and absorbed the force behind it too.

The food atop of it has gone to waste, however. They all spilled on his side, smearing him in meat juices and sauces, and it's evident that he didn't liked it. Snarling, he shoved the tray back to me, forcing me to belly flop on the stained surface. Reaching for anything, I grabbed something cold and threw it blindly, hoping it would hit him.

A satisfying sound of glass shattering said it did. I slid off the tray and looked up to see him staggering from the ice cream hitting him at the chin. Oh well. I bet Fareeha hates vanilla anyway.

Pressing my advantage, I lunged forward to deliver a punch to the chest. He took it straight on, stepping two steps back while grabbing his torso. I took my time to deliver a kick to his temple, but he blocked it just in time with one arm. A _steel_ arm, judging by my pain factor. With two hands, he grabbed my leg and was about to swing me over like Raj.

I have too much pride to be treated like a human ragdoll. Hopping my only feet from the ground, I twisted my body to deliver a panic kick to his shoulder. That did the trick. He dropped that arm and merely dragged my body over the meat stained floor with the other. I pulled myself mid-drag and swung myself over his head.

Once I have proper balance, I then pulled my arms together and drove both my elbows at his scalp. Pushing myself away, I grasped my hands to deliver a fisted hammer at his exposed face, striking blood. He had enough of it, however. He grabbed me by my coat with his grubby hands and slammed me against the wall, shattering the plaster and showering the hallways with its dust. I can't even begin to describe the pain.

Without thinking, I focused on climbing out of the wall. I didn't even realized that I dodged a punch that was directed to where my head was. It was almost out of instinct that I grabbed the bellhop's collar and head-butted him. I missed my target when he shimmied out of the way. I think I hit his cheek +3+. There was blood, and I'm definitely sure it's from both of us. I shoved him away to give myself some space and brought up my arms defensively, just like basic boxing. I don't care if he has metal arms. Losing to him wouldn't be newspaper material.

That's when I blacked out for a moment. The impact must've been hard, or that talk with Fareeha bothered me more than I thought. Either way, it was long enough to have my skull whipped back from a punch. I was backed against the wall again, and he kept pummeling at me. I raised my arms to protect my head.

"Get away from him!" Raj screamed from afar.

All of a sudden, I was twisted around from my cubbyhole, and before I knew it, the bellhop was holding my in a chokehold. I could only hold his arms around my neck and pull for some air.

"Drop! Drop it!" the bellhop shouted back. I opened my eyes to see Raj, bleeding from scalp to chin, crouching and aiming his service pistol at me.

"Desist and release the captive!" Raj demanded.

"I'll break his neck!"

"Last warning!"

I felt the bellhop shuffle behind me. He could be reducing his silhouette, but I can't let him do that. He loosened his arms while he shuffled for a moment, and that moment was more than enough for me. I pulled the arm as hard as I can, opened my jaws and chowed down on his chewy but metallic wrist +4+.

"NnnnnNGGnggNGnghHH!" I growled as I felt the electrical current coursing through my mouth, but in the end, it did the trick. His arm limped even more while he screamed when his wire-nerves burned. It let me pull myself out further. Once I have enough space, I hurled back my head against his face, letting me escape from his steel grapple. I kicked back for good measure, and as soon as I knew it, he was on the floor.

"Get away, sir! Get away!" Raj shouted as he rushed forward with the gun pointed at the assailant.

"Crap, my head," I groaned out as I knelt on the floor while holding my blooded face. "Ugh!" Whatever I bit, there was some kind of liquid that got juiced into my mouth. It was bitter and sour. I spitted it out on the floor and it was pink. I looked back to see the bellhop was still writhing in pain to even care that he's at gunpoint. At least for now, he's harmless.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, sir," Raj said while focusing on the intruder.

"Ugh. It's just cuts and bruises, Raj. Cuts and bruises. Ugh!" I spat on the floor again.

"Coming around the corner!" I heard Agent Lundkwist shouting from across the hall. She checked around the wall with her SCAR-P and yelled, "Corner, clear!"

"Bounding!" Agent Marlin replied from afar.

"Moving to MVP!" She then sprinted towards me while pointing her rifle at the intruder.

"Holding position!" Marlin slid over the floor and quickly took position behind the corner.

"Situation?" she asked Raj.

"It's under control," he replied. "I'll keep him down." He moved his hand to his ear. "Athena, can you read me?"

The agent knelt beside me and held a small flashlight. "Where are you hurt, sir?"

"I'm bleeding at my scalp," I replied as I held my gaze at the light from the little bulb, "and bruises all over my torso and my back."

She nodded and placed her flash away. "Let's take you to your room." She was about to take my arm, but I yanked it off.

I stood up and leaned against the wall. "No. Call a VTOL. We need to get out of Cairo before we involve more civilians." And get Fareeha away as far as possible. Maybe a pillowcase is enough. Or some duct tape.

She held a finger to her ear. "Three-Actual, this is Two-Two. Find Lt. Wilhelm and prep for evac, over."

"Sir!" Raj yelled over. "Athena's not responding!"

It took a moment for me to digest that. I hurriedly limped over to my suite and opened the door. I screamed, "NO-"

+1+ For those asking if Jack Morrison has enhanced hearing, you are right. The problem does not lie in the volume of Fareeha's voice, but the coherency of it.

+2+ He forgot to mention that this lengthy process is due to the encryption progress in his phone. Any mentions of Ana's daughter, even as simple as a text, would lead to a degree of suspicion.

+3+ To clarify, he was aiming for the nose, where the face is softest.

+4+ Jack Morrison has diamond hard teeth with ample jaw muscle. We have established this a couple of chapters ago.

* * *

"-FAREEHA!"

She was the first one I saw hovering right after they tore the Druid's roof open with their plasma torches. Helix troopers somehow dived into the swamp and planted ballast at the bottom of the downed craft. Me and Stragg almost drowned in the process, but if I had to choose, I rather take my chances underwater than to take on half a dozen rocket launchers.

Pharah didn't bother to point her shotgun at us. "76, not so loud, please. But nice meeting you, nonetheless." More Helix troopers kept coming at her side, and I can imagine what else is they have in store from out of our view. "And you too, Stragg. We've been moving heaven and earth for you."

Stragg spitted out swamp water. "Baby, I could move _your_ heaven and earth." If I wasn't too busy trying to formulate a plan, I could've sock his teeth in. He leaned towards me while keeping his eye on our new skylight and whispered, "You're a legend, right? Think you could take them on?"

"With an empty gun?" I whispered back. "And what? Aim at them and yell 'BANG'?" He shrugged.

"Let's swap guns." He slightly twisted his body so I could easily take it from his holster. "Twenty solid rounds. You in?"

"No, get back. They got the same idea." And I doubt I could shoot their exposed faces constantly and precisely.

Gory chimed in. "We don't have any energy left to power the Orgone-"

"I'm well aware of that," I interjected. "And even if we do, I don't think our shield could hold that much firepower."

"Shield?" Stragg asked. "Hey Soldier, don't go over the edge yet. We still have a lot to talk about, like your first time."

I miss my HPR already.

"How about this?" Pharah said from above. "You make it easy for us, and we'll go easy on you." She waved her shotgun. "76, come forward and kneel. I know there's no magazine in that XM9. But Stragg? Feel free to lower yours."

"Last chance, soldier boy," Stragg said. "Take my gun."

From that moment on, I knew this supply mission was a bust. Damn, if I had known… who am I kidding? I knew exactly well on what I had put myself into! I could've crawled away from this godforsaken pit, even if took days. I was fearing for Stragg's life and I took it as a personal obligation to protect him, but now… is it worth it?

In my long years of crusading, I asked that question every time.


	5. Chapter 5

If any of you ever wonder why people like me wear masks, the most obvious reason is to hide my identity. From whom, you ask? Well, other people. People who want to arrest me. People who want to kill me. People who want to arrest _and_ kill me. Those are the two things that I want to avoid and I'm not going to wash the blood from my hands for some of the shady stuff that I did (although most of them were unintentional). The point being, I don't want to be unmasked.

Protect my loved ones, you say? My family are pretty much protected the last time I heard. Wish I could go back, though. If you're talking about Overwatch… to be honest, I don't know what's left to protect there. The title's pretty much tarnished to the point my reveal would've been another footnote in history. An exciting footnote, but a footnote nonetheless. All the guys there moved on, and I'm sure they'll be the one doing the executing if I meet them. There are some operating the shadows, but at this rate, I don't know if they're doing much impact to the world.

What? Hope? Hope that Overwatch gets reformed? That would be… funny, at the least. There's been a lot of people claiming that they did just that. Many of them failed. Many of them aren't even Overwatch. Just some random crowd muddying the organization even more. See what I mean when I said that my big reveal wouldn't been that bad?

Oh? You asking me why I haven't revealed myself? That if everything doesn't matter, why I'm not letting this asshole take my mask off? Uh-huh. One, Gory wouldn't let him. She's using the last of her energy to keep the mask tight. Electromagnetics or something. Two, maybe it's cruel of me, but I like to see him squirm.

"Come on!" he grunted while pulling the edges of my mask. "Come… on…!" There are two other guys holding my shoulders while he tried so hard to pull.

"Tsu!" Fareeha called from the VTOL. "Stop playing with the Tango and get him over his containment pod!"

He let go of me for a while and faced her. "Aren't you curious what's behind the mask?"

She shook her head. "We'll crack him open once we get back to base." She looked over the twisting trees. "Storm's coming quicker than forecasted."

In my best judgment, I could say that the super-storm is already here. The wind coursing through the swamp is enough to limit flying and the gust alone could push fully armored troopers from the ground. I craned my head at the sound of small trees uprooting from the soft earth before the two troopers behind me forced me to walk.

The trooper named Tsu waved me towards the containment pod. The containment pod, AKA the 'Containment Pod', is a specialized pod made for containment. From here, it looks like an eyeglass case that opens up from the middle.

Nevertheless, I complied since these guys could blow my ass sky high enough to make the storm rain blood. I stepped inside the closet-sized compartment and heard the pod closing up behind my back. I could feel air ticking on my neck, and I was like, "Huh. So this is how it feels like." It's pitch black inside, smells like something came out of an airline package, and my hair could barely get any wiggle room. But at least they lined the pod's insides with cashmere. Top of the line Mongolian, I believe.

Overwatch used to have a dozen of these for the occasional straight-out-from-the-comics baddies that makes a mess of him/her/itself, both figuratively and literally. Thankfully, we didn't use a lot of them. And honestly, I'm surprised that the auditing department managed to sell _some_ of these over-engineered jail cells.

The fact that Helix is willing to reserve one for me makes me feel so much of their love. And in short notice for that matter.

My armor buzzed, "This doesn't bode well for us, 76."

"Nah, they just made it easy for me." I flexed my wrist so that my fingers could face forward. "If they can see me in plain sight with cuffs on, yeah, it'll look difficult. This pod, on the other hand, is like something sent from heaven."

"What are you doing?"

"There was a report back then…" My fingers worked on tearing the synthetic fur, "…that some guy almost escaped. He… aw, come on." Looks like Helix did their homework. They patched the _exploit_ by welding a steel slab over it. Still, it's a steel slab. I carefully grabbed the sides and gently pulled it. "What was I… Oh, yeah. This guy installed some high-grade mesodermic mesh all over his body. So he…" I pulled the lid off and went to work. "…yanked a wire in the life support systems from inside the pod, thinking the guys outside would let him out if they thought his life was in danger. The next step in his brilliant plan was to fight his way out." Sparks were flying.

"Did he?"

I shook my head and chuckled. "Hell no. He passed out cold by the pod's failsafe." I could feel something cold blowing over my neck. "Knockout gas."

"Uhhh."

"Didn't matter either way. They're like hundreds of feet up in the air."

"76, my altimeter says we're also hundreds of feet in the air. And I don't think the men outside has any plans in letting us out."

I shrugged. "Their problem, not mine." I yanked a wire. It's as thick as my thumb and sparking like a fountain. "Gory, prepare the Orgone Barrier." I opened my armor's charging port.

"Sir, whatever power we're siphoning from this pod may not be enough for my projectors to properly function."

"Then project it slowly. We need to heat up this tuna can."

"…I'll calculate the necessary adjustments." Good. I was worried I had to spell it out. My HUD brightened up. "Okay, 76! Give it to me!"

"Don't make it sound so dirty," I murmured to myself. Angling my wrists, I jammed the wire into my chest.

Back in Indiana, I was once a teenager. For some reason, the air always seems so hot everywhere I go. It was then a habit of mine to bring bottles of ice every time I went out. Yes. Bottles of ice. I fill two empty bottle of water at each night and placed it deep inside the freezer. I sip the ice cold water during class. At lunchtime, I refilled the bottles along with whatever ice is left there for some teeth chilling drinking water.

And then in one spring cleaning day, my mother threw the bottles out. Well, it's either I cry over spoiled milk, or that I do something about it. After an hour of searching, I found a metal container, probably belonging to my dad. It looked like a bottle to me, so I did the usual. I filled it with water and placed it inside the freezer.

The next morning, I found the metal bottle punctured from the inside. Like how Gory punched by plasmatising the air around us. Goes to show how a little story about how I ruined my dad's flask could get me out of this cell +1+.

The plasma around us is blinding me. Regardless, I used my arms and legs in order to open what little opening Gory gave us. Other than the flames swirling and vacuuming around me, I heard the satisfying sound of metal suffering. I pushed harder until the hinges behind me gave away. Damn, it feels like I was thousands of feet below water inside that contraption +2+.

And then suddenly, it felt like I popped out of the water and into Antarctica. It was cold all of the sudden. I looked around to see that I'm inside a VTOL, as expected. Standard design, polymer interior, with seats at the sides. Those seats were occupied with troopers. Troopers who are currently trying to escape their harnesses.

I struggled to get up since it won't be long before they swarm me, and it appears some are faster than others. Three troopers came behind me with pump-action shotguns, already aiming. I wasted no time by dropping down and made a sweeping kick at the guy nearest to me. He didn't even get to say, 'Freeze!'

The other two were already firing beanbag rounds as soon as I completed me pirouette. I warned Gory to save the energy and let me absorb them, but the pain spiking on my ribs and my hip made that decision a little regrettable. I charged forward before they could get to pump another.

Closing distance at the nearest trooper, I reached out for his shotgun. With disciplined ease, he attempted to shove me. Just as planned. I grabbed the polymer surface of the gun and pulled him with me to the floor. While we're down, I pulled my leg up and kicked at his belly, somersaulting him behind me. Now that I have shotgun on my hands, it was time to party.

With my back on the floor, I quickly pumped the shotgun and aimed at the last trooper (at least at my vicinity) standing. We fired together, both hitting. "Guh!" I grunted as I held a hand over my chest. I used the gun as a club and got up to see two or three dozen troopers rushing for me. I just sighed, satisfied that none of them have anything lethal to shoot at me.

+1+ As per usual, 76 has a knack for leaving things unexplained. For clarification, in case you have not figured out for yourself, the Saturnite Security Gargoyle Automaton v3a used the Orgone Barrier System to raise the enclosed environ's incalescence by converting it to plasma, allowing it to expand, which naturally occurs in the extremes of temperatures, enough to damage the structural integrity of the container. Also, it took a span of five minutes in order to build the pressure, which necessitates 76's teen hood story.

+2+ Note, the amount of pressure Gory created would have killed an average human being. That is if they could survive the furnace hot temperatures first.

* * *

I kicked the door leading to the pilot cabin. After the fifteenth, the door gave away. I immediately sidestepped and I could swear I saw bullets whizzing through. I unpinned the flash grenade that I picked up a while ago and threw inside the cabin. There were screams of surprise and then a loud bang. I immediately rushed in.

The two pilots were still dazed with arms over their head when I came in. I have enough fists to smack the two of them to dreamland. After disarming them of their pistols, I pulled one of the pilots out and took a seat. I'm currently looking at the storm from the other side of the window. Low visibility, and rain heavy enough to shake bulletproof glass.

I refocused on the task at hand. "Gory, do your thing," I told it as I plugged the wire from my chest to the controls.

"Systems compromised!" it announced, cheerfully. "Raising altitude."

"Wait! No! We need to find Stragg. Can you give me his last known location?"

"76, if we don't pull up now, we might never escape the storm. This could be our only chance." I swear I could hear _worry_ in its voice.

"Gory, he might not look much, but he's important. It's imperative that we rescue him."

"Imperative? Since when did it become imperative?"

I closed my eyes. "I ruined his life once. I'm not going to ruin it again."

Silence. "…Fine."

Deliberately, the control panel lit up. "The security is limiting my reach," Gory explained. "I'll get walled up if I try to blanket search. You need to give me something specific to lessen that chance."

"Specific, eh?" I tapped my chin. "Okay, how many VTOL's are there that took off in the span of 20 minutes?"

"Searching… eight, us included. But, after on air for six minutes, there was a general order issued to for all VTOL's to ground, except this one."

Huh. They really wanted me _that_ bad. "Okay, where-"

There was something beeping in my HUD. "I got locked out!"

I smacked the panel. "Damn it! Can you get back in?"

"I'm recognized now. It'll take a super computer to get through their encryption now." I sighed. "So… what now?"

I massaged my temples. "All of the means of transportation are out of the question. That means they couldn't've gotten far. And at this rate, the storm's only going to get worse. That means…" I snapped my finger. "The only option they have is to take shelter. Gory? Where's the nearest Helix outpost at?"

"Bastia, Corsica."

"That's an island, I believe. They've got to be inland. It's unlikely for the Italians to let a mercenary company land on one of their own bases, so they've got to be somewhere." I sighed. "Gory, set destination to Stragg's compound. It's the nearest place that's safe enough from the super-storm."

"Setting." The VTOL lurched sideways. "You do know that they're going to be suspicious about our arrival. The logs stored on this console says this aircraft's supposed to get away from the storm at all cost."

I nodded. "I know."

Twenty minutes later, the pilot strapped on the seat started to groan. He was speaking in a language I half recognize, and it looks like he remembers what happened as he reached for his empty holster.

"Ah-ah-ah," I tutted from behind him. "We need none of that." I was busy checking my bandoliers, filled rubber 12 gauges. Make sure it stays tight.

If looks could kill, he'd have my head saw into two.

"76," Gory chimed, "we're approaching the base at ETA 30 seconds."

I remained calm and stared at the pilot. "Tell them we're landing." I nodded at the console. "Come on. I don't need to wave a gun at you. You and everyone's going to die crashing from this storm by friendly fire if you don't."

Without waiting for a response, I marched towards the back of the VTOL. The turbulence came stronger this time. The autopilot can't be trusted, but if that pilot back there remembers half his training, he'll land it.

I passed by the troopers that's starting to regain consciousness, realizing that the power from their overpriced flight suits got drained. Gory has to eat healthy, after all. We probably needed it if we're going to survive the _next_ _one_.

Nearing the door controls at the side, I punched the keys and opened the rear hatchway. Even with a tight slit, the air was ever violent. My whole body moved as soon as the wind invaded our privacy. The hatchway struggled, but it lowered anyway. If I wasn't wearing this visor, I bet I couldn't see twenty feet from this rain and gale.

Mini tornadoes are forming with leaves, dust and rocks. Young trees were being uprooted and got tossed up like a salad. Rain was falling in waves of walls. The worst part? The compound down there is already flooding. Without the roofs, I might have thought that we're not at the right place.

Huffing my fears away, I limbered up my arms and legs… and then jumped. I stretched my limbs apart to catch the wind and slow my fall. I can only see a gray haze full of whipping water and dancing tornadoes. It took a lot of energy to balance the air pushing and yanking me, but as soon as I got near the water surface, I immediately straightened my body.

Water was so cold that it sent…

* * *

…chills down my spine as soon as I saw the man wearing an unusual armor carrying Fareeha over his shoulder. She was struggling to get out of his grasp. When she heard me shouting, she looked over, reached out to me, with tears in her eyes, screaming, "Sir, help me!"

I'm not much of a superhero type, but there are people watching from behind me. Gulping nervously, I run towards Fareeha. The two are heading towards the window where a VTOL is hovering with its hatch open. I don't have anything to stop them. There's a gun hidden in my bedroom, but it'll be too late.

I ran faster and faster, closing the distance, but I already knew that I have limits. In the end, the kidnapper jumped through the hole on the window and into the aircraft by the time I got there. I skidded to a halt, almost falling off the building. Last things I saw was Fareeha's tear streaked face as the aircraft turned away from me.

Sighing at the sight, I slowly turned around at the sound of feet thumping behind me.

"Sir!" Agent Lundkwist called as she pulled me away from the window. "You shouldn't be out in the open."

I looked at Raj. "Get me someone from the city police." He nodded and rushed out of the room. I looked at my burning wreck of a computer. This should've been Athena's job if it weren't perforated with plasma.

"There was a girl with him," inquired Arloveskaya. "Who is she?"

Damn. Should I tell her? I was about to answer something vague-like until Raj yelled, "I have the ENP (Egyptian National Police)! Standby to receive!"

"Acknowledged!" I then reached for my Tactical Monocle and placed it on my ear. "This is Commander Jack Morrison of Overwatch. How copy?"

"This is Chief Salib. We hear you loud and clear, Overwatch-Actual," said the receiver in a clipped accent.

"Chief, do you observe a rogue VTOL within Cairo Airspace?"

"Roger that. We are observing the rogue and sending interceptors to pursuit."

I nodded. "Be advised, sir, the VTOL is carrying a civilian hostage. I say again, the VTOL is carrying a civilian hostage. How copy?"

"We copy. We will take the necessary precautions, over."

I sighed. "Officer Salib, do you have any information on this rogue?"

"Wait… Yes, we have it right here, Overwatch-Actual. The logs says that the VTOL is registered to Mulligan ltd. Thirty-eight minutes back, the company's super have passed a report to the police about a sudden power blackout, and then moments after, sabotage and theft."

I never heard of this company until now, but the VTOL came here in less than thirty-eight minutes. Must be an inside job. I looked back at Lundkwist. "Mark Mulligan ltd. for later investigation." I went back to my monocle. "Colonel, be advised, I am sending a strike team to pursue as well. Please update me on the rogue, over?"

"Roger that, Overwatch-Actual. Happy hunting. Over and out."

"Who are you sending, sir?" Lundkwist asked. She looked eager.

"Two and Three. I'll be taking command. Call them in and send them at the rooftop." I looked over to Raj. "Drop the guy outside with One. You need to go with them and get as much information as possible. Make it quick!"

While we waited at the helipad up top for our transport, I kept my ear on the comms. It appears that the kidnappers, whoever they are, dropped down at… the Temple of Anubis. The worst part is that no one's been responding from that place since the time of the kidnapping. SWAT are already on the scene, and so far, no demands are being sent.

This was turning into a bad—

* * *

-nightmare. They got a bead on me in less than ten minutes. I ran as soon as the first sight of rocket flame. No use on diving down and hoping they'll give me a pass, anyway. Their optics would make that impossible.

Wind and water were slapping my body, and the waves created by the explosions threatened to drag me off course. I fought them all, the wind, the waves; they'd have to land a direct hit at me to slow me down. My muscles ached. My vision blurred. I thought I was invincible. Unstoppable. I could—

"Gaaaaah!" I screamed as I jettisoned up into the air. And yes, I could see that roof from a mile away. Instinctively, I curled up my body and bounced on the wet surface. "Ugh, that hurts…" It feels like my soul got dislocated from my body.

I stood up quickly and wiped off the mud from my visor. The first thing my visor detected was the group of troopers at top of the next building over. "Sonuva-" Bright explosions rocked the building I'm currently occupying, and I'm pretty sure that won't be the last.

Gotta take the initiative fast. I raised my shotgun and fired. My visor has trouble filtering my vision. "Gory, am I hitting something?" I kept pumping round after round, but I can't tell if I'm doing any damage.

"Insufficient data," it said as I reloaded.

Fortunately, they're not having much luck either. The wind kept pushing off the rockets in an undesired direction. It's a wonder how that first rocket hit in the first place. They're getting hotter, though.

Then some of them got the better idea to bring out some ballistics and launch lead at me. It's a shame I can't tell if they're raindrops or bullet impacts, but I knew I have to get out of their line of sight. I crouched and looked around and saw something that looks like a tarp flapping against the gale. Sprinting towards it, I pulled the tarp, nails, ropes and all, and jumped down before they get any luckier.

And before I knew it, I was underwater. A hundred liquid hands began frisking my body. Flailing my arms around, I swam towards the surface and nearly bumped my head on the concrete ceiling. "This doesn't look good," I contemplated. It's dark, but I'm definitely inside. The only source of light was the vent that I jumped from. Turning my night vision on and letting the contrast set in, I grumbled, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

It was the same standard-issued armory where I met that sub-standard-issued clerk. Only with a not-so-standard-issued flooding. I thought about getting a standard-issued weapon from here, but Helix would've confiscated all of them a long time ago. They're thorough like that.

"Gory," I called out. "Bring out the map of the complex."

"Just for you, 76!" it cheerily obeyed.

My vision then filled with the building layout. "Hmm… it looks like we're at the far end of the western wing." The water shook as the building took a direct hit. I looked around if it would collapse, but it seems like Stragg got his money's worth.

"76," Gory chimed. "I'm picking up chatter in the waves. From what I could gather, the men outside are calling for reinforcements."

"I doubt that." Besides the obvious death warrant from the mere thought of flying, and judging on the water levels, no matter how many men they throw at me has to swim first.

The building shook again as I scanned at the area's outlines. I sighed and made up my destination. "Minimize the map. We have a lot of swimming to do."

After I checked with my air-recycler and my shotgun, I dived down. The contrast around my vision adjusted. Swimming into the water-filled tunnels, I thought about how I'm going to confront the other Helix troopers lurking inside this base. It's not like I'm incapable of dealing with multiple enemies within enclosed spaces. I know they have no way of escaping in this gusty purgatory.

I'm more worried about how they're going to react to their prisoners. They wouldn't know who my target is, and it would be safe to say that they're going to guard their captives like a hen. I know they wouldn't execute them; I'm sure. But I could only take one. Who knows what they'll do once I showed them my motives.

Swimming through a flight of stairs, I broke through the surface. Cold air clasped hard over my exposed skin, cutting deep like fangs. I got my gun ready and aimed at the lightless corridor. No one was there. Cameras were in the ceiling, but all of them appears to be unoperational. I moved forward, minding the footsteps over the wet concrete floor.

"Anything from their frequency?" I asked Gory.

"They fell back, it seems," it reported. "Currently, they are in a middle of a roll call. It's hard to make out." I nodded as I neared towards another set of stairs. "On another note, the VTOL landed safely."

I angled my gun upwards as I climbed the stairs. Waterfalls poured at each step, making them slippery. With all the noise the water is making, I can't tell whether or not there are people waiting for me at the top. Cautiously, I stretched my neck over the incline and saw no one. I continued at the hallway.

My mini-map at the corner of my visor says that we're almost at the place. I immediately stopped by the sound of heavy steps. After scanning my surroundings, I walked towards a corner and peeked. There was a shadow at the end of this hallway, but it disappeared over at another corner before I got the look on who it belonged to. The sound of its footsteps echoed in front of me.

I carefully followed it until I heard more footsteps. And heading towards my location. I turned towards a door beside me and opened it. It was the server room, or at least it supposed to be. Like crystal pillars, there were rows and rows of sophisticated hardware inside here. All of them got smashed and their glass cases thrown about like wet dust. It was probably Stragg's men did all of this, just in case Helix tried snooping here.

Gently closing the door behind me, I carefully stepped away from it with my gun ready. My ears perked at the sound of their footsteps. I looked around and tried to find a way out. There was none. I redirected my attention at the door again and I waited for them to close in. Their steps get louder and louder… and then softened.

That's probably for the best.

Relaxing my already taut body, I exited the room and checked from side to side. I then continued towards my objective. The hallways got significantly nosier as I entered deeper. Metal clanks, rotors, machinery, all echoing between the walls. I must be close. After another corner, I saw a beam of light stabbing sideways. I checked for its source and hit the mother lode.

The red diamond disappeared from my vision as the objective was sighted. Through a hole on a wall, I can see, from a high angle, the warehouse. About a size of a stadium, the warehouse stores the heavier stuff in Stragg's store of killables. It's all empty now, except for a contingent of Helix personnel and Stragg's men. Who are in pens.

Pre-Crisis electric pens, to be exact. In the middle of the warehouse ground level, Stragg's staff were huddled up inside these pens with black bags over their heads and zip cuffs behind their backs. Unarmored Helix troopers guard them, alongside with a command staff (judging by the pointing and high grade computers around them), but a lot of these people looks like they want to pass out. Some of them are already asleep in one corner.

"Visor: Scan Mode," I commanded. "Target: Stragg." He got to be somewhere inside one of those pens. I waited for my visor to finish, but it gave me nothing. His gimpy body suit is nowhere to be found. "Okay, scan for Fareeha Amari."

Of course, the Helix men in here are incomplete. There's more out patrolling in the halls, Raptoras and rockets and all. Unsurprisingly, my scans turned up with nothing. "Scan: Off."

I walked off from the hole and fiddled with my visor so it could show me the best route going—

* * *

-down to the temple so I could rescue the hostages. Yes, I said _I_. The Omnics inside the temple are demanding _me_ of all people to discuss the terms and conditions. I wish these dickless radiator-humpers would just send it through an email or something. I looked outside the Druid through a window and saw tiny specks across the Cairo skyline. More jets, it seems.

I then looked back at the twenty men inside the Druid's compartment. All of them handpicked for the sole purpose of being my bodyguards. Some of them looked at me with honest apprehension, and I couldn't blame them. They all, as far as I could tell, aimed for the higher marks in order to be my bodyguards because they knew that it would mean that they're out of the fighting for good. Besides the likes of Lundkwist, none of them wanted to be this close to the action.

"Sir," the pilot radioed, "we are approaching the objective in ETA 2 minutes."

"Copy," I replied as I swiped the screen on my tablet. "Four-One," I radioed my intel team. "This is Overlord. What's the sitrep on the ground, over?"

"This is Four-One. No activities, Overlord. We have yet to see any Tangoes, over."

"I copy." I turned my Cross Com on and connected at the camera under the Druid. I pointed the camera at the AO we're approaching. Police surrounded the place along with a crowd of civvies and reporters flashing their phones and camera drones. Like moths to the flame, these people are just too close to the site.

"Four-One, this is Overlord. Relay to the police to push the crowd back. Tell them… tell them about stray bullets or shrapnel or… I don't know. Make something up. I want them out the area, pronto."

"This is Four-One, wilco. I'll relay the message, over."

I went back to observing the temple. We're approaching it fast, and as far as the Druid can scan and analyze, there are no external threats. Not even lookouts. "Pilot, hover over the AO for a moment."

"Roger."

I pressed some buttons on my Cross Com. "Lieutenant Albarez. Lieutenant Albarez, this is Commander Jack Morrison, do you copy?" I waited for ten seconds. "Lieutenant Albarez, we are approaching your location, please respond." I waited for another ten seconds. "Lieutenant, I need a response."

"…ou," a static said. "There is…rez…" I couldn't make it out at the end, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that those aren't vocal chords.

"Bad copy. This is Cmdr. Morrison, say again?"

"I said there is no Albarez here," said the Omnic. "Jack Morrison, have you come alone?"

I whispered to Marlin, "Track this signal." This is the best time as any to get as much information as possible. I went to the caller. "First, I would like to know who I'm talking to."

"You can call me Tres."

"Okay Tres-" if that's your real name, "—where are you?"

"Where else could I have been?"

"I don't know. Some hotel where you can see the carnage you've caused?" It's possible.

"Use your imagination, human. But before we continue, will you come alone?"

"My men, first," I urged. "I want to know what happened to my men."

"You are in no position to negotiate."

I sighed. "Sir… ma'am… thing, if I have no guarantee that my men are still alive, I am free to assume that you already killed them. I'm not going to risk my life, or anyone el-"

"Will You Come Alone?" it asked again.

"I need pictures, Mr. Tres. Negotiations are a two way process. You show me something, I show mine. Now please… Show me."

I waited for a few moments before Marlin beside me tugged my sleeve with a confused look. "Sir, we have an email from… Lt. Albarez." He handed me a tablet. I tapped the new message icon and it showed me pictures.

I stood right away and moved to the farthest corner of the Druid, away from human eyes. I gazed picture by picture. "Will you come alone?" Tres asked a third time.

Contemplating it for a moment, I then sighed. "Listen," I whispered. "I need at least a team with me."

"Alone. Any more than one will be a risk."

"I need a team," I insisted. "It's the only way I could… solve this."

"…This team must stay away. Stay far away."

"If you don't hurt my men, I'll make sure they stay away." I waited for a reply. "Hello? Tres?" I turned around. "Link's dead."

"I couldn't get a location, sir," Marlin reported. "It's like… you're contacting the whole city, I think."

I ignored him. "Pilot, steady the Druid. We're about to rappel."

"10-4," the pilot replied.

I pulled out my pistol. "Two, Three, eyes on me. We are about to undergo a rescue op. Maintain radio and trigger discipline. We have no idea who our enemy is, so our main objective is solely, SOLELY, to save our agents. They are our first priority, so keep sharp."

All of us then rappelled down at the temple's entrance. The men on the ground already assumed position and took cover, but there were no attackers. As soon as I got my boots on the ground, like a disturbing a bird's nest, the paparazzi and reporters shot pictures behind my back. The police did all they can to push them all back.

Ignoring them, I ordered Team Three to take point, positioning myself nicely between the two ten-men team. Even if the media is now watching my every move, this is not the time to pose heroically. If someone's going to take brunt of an ambush, it's not going to be me. As expected, they were reluctant. They ultimately obeyed.

We passed through empty bazaars with fruits and fish spilled over the sand.

"Commander, this is Three-Actual. We have the rogue VTOL on our 10, over."

"Read that, Three-Actual," I cooly replied. "Oscar-Mike to your position." I looked at my side. "Two-Actual, head to temple proper."

"10-4!" he replied before waving his team forwards. God, I wish we could get rid of those blue coats.

I ran towards Team Three's position. They surrounded the VTOL in the middle of the bazaar square at a safe distance. The machine was hastily draped in tarpaulin. "Three," I called out, "go check it out."

"Sir," Three-Actual replied. Four agents approached the vehicle with rifles drawn.

My radio pinged up. "Commander, this is Two-Actual, we have scouted the temple. There are no immediate threats, but my men found a door glowing blue, over."

"Copy that," I replied. "Standby."

I looked back at the draped VTOL and saw the same four men exiting it. They were gesturing an all clear.

"Dammit," I cursed lowly. "Three-Actual, stay on the perimeter. I'll be hooking up with Two."

"Roger that, sir," he replied before he ran to his men.

I went the other way and entered the temple. I briefly paused halfway, expecting whizzes, pops and fizzes as soon as I got in. Looking around, the walls are unblemished. No cherry red pocks to see here, and it seems the restorers got the job done. Yep, it's been a while.

Back to the action, everyone on Team Two are standing in formation around the glowing door. It looks like there was a struggle here. Bullet holes were peppered all around the entrance. Even a grenade was set off. I could sense nervous glances pointing at me as I approached.

"Any activity in there, lieutenant?" I asked, pointing at the hole.

"Other than the humming, negative, commander," Two-Actual answered curtly.

I walked towards it, hearing the all familiar hum of a scanner. I turned towards the Strike Team. "Gentlemen. What we're about to see is something that should not leave this site, understand?"

"Sir!" they all shouted.

"All of you don't realize this, but we're in a middle of a great crisis just by this incident alone. I'm asking only this much of you, people. You have to take this secret to your graves, or else, swear to God, I'll put all of _you_ in graves!" I waved them over. "Breach! Standby for breach!" They all rushed into position. "Remember your objectives and keep your fire. On my mark, we go in!"

I positioned myself at the door controls. "Mark!" I punched the button.

Team Two rushed in as the door slid up, calling and reporting their actions. I followed right after the last agent got through. I exited the eerie ancient stone temple and entered into the oppressive metal sepulcher. The room pulsed in soft blue. Monitors atop of rows of tables showed white static. The colors threatening us gave the ropes of mechadendrites all over the floor an organic feel, like entrails of a giant humanoid machine. The machine, in the shape of an Egyptian god, which is standing at the very end of the room. Inanimate.

My men ignored it, and only I know the dangers of it.

These metallic intestines wrapped around the struggling agents against the pillars, those who were tasked to guard this damned place. Team Two tried pulling the mechadendrites, cutting with their blades, or shooting it with their plasma rifles. Only the latter was working.

"Sir!" Two-Actual called. "No hostiles on site."

"Continue with the rescue operations, lieutenant," I answered back as I strode towards the Anubis idol.

I was directly in front of its ivory-like legs. I looked up and met the idol eye to eye. Its eyes whirred.

Suddenly, like whips, the mechadendrites swished at every carbon life form inside the metal sepulcher. My men screamed as they saw the twitchy wires gunning for them. I stood still, watching as they all shoot and/or run away from the metal chords. One by one, they were all dragged and moored against the pillars.

Everyone was asking for my help because I was the only one who is left standing. I ignored them and looked back up at Anubis.

"Satisfied?" I asked as I lowered my pistol. "You just _have_ to call me when crap hits the fan, do ya?"

"Sir!" Agent Marlin from afar shouted. "We'd appreciate if you could assist us?"

"Hush," I replied before going back at the blue statue. They serve their purpose as this Omnic's fidget toys. "What's 'a matter? You wanted to see me and this is how you say hello?" My Cross Com informed me of an incoming call. I brought a finger up to accept it.

"Fulfill your obligations to me, Jack Morrison," Anubis said in its static monotone. "Fulfill it, for my life is in danger once more." Ah yes. My friggin' obligations.

"From whom? Them?" I pointed my thumb behind me. "Did they trespass?" That would be unlikely. The walls alone could take hit from a MOAB (Massive Ordinance Air Blast), and don't get me started on the doors.

"No. There are other humans that hovers my termination." I raised an eyebrow. "Remove them. Now."

"Why can't _you_ remove them? You look like you're more than capable to." I kicked a chord.

"If I act, they have promised to destroy me. And they have means to do so."

"Well, where are they?"

"Assisting you is an action." I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Therefore they will destroy me."

"Honey, you're making this hard for me."

"I grow tired of these threats and blackmails," Anubis said, speaking a little louder in my ear. "Remove them at once and fulfill your obligations."

I groaned again before turning around. "Hang tight, men," I told them before walking away.

"Very funny, sir!" someone shouted back.

If what Anubis says is true about having a gun aimed at its head, then I need to find this gun. I went around the huge statue, looking around for anything suspicious. Once I got behind the statue, I looked up to see a bag on the back of Anubis's neck. I used my Cross Com to analyze the bag, and I was shocked when the analysis came back.

There's someone inside the bag!

I don't need Admiral Ackbar to tell me the obvious. It's a two out of ten chance that that could be Fareeha inside that bag, and I could almost smell the imaginary C4 strapped somewhere up there. I'm almost tempted to go back to my agents, bring one of them down and order him to go up there, but that would just make me look bad.

I'm between certain humiliation and certain death. I don't want to risk a bomb blast, but I also don't want to lose my hero status that I worked many years to build up. What a dilemma, right?

Yep. Couldn't help but wonder why I brought out my grapping hook.

There weren't any edges for me to gain leverage. After throwing a hook at Anubis' ear, I waited for it to say something. Satisfied with the silence, probably because it doesn't have a nervous system, I began climbing up. I kept my Cross Com scanning the air for lasers or unusual shapes while I climbed.

As soon as I reached the neckline, I loosened my grip on the rope for easy rappelling in one hand. With the other, I slowly reached out for the fidgeting duffel bag. I breathed carefully, but I couldn't keep my head from throbbing so much. My hand drew closer to the handle—

"That's far enough, Commander," the bag told me.

It took me a while, but I finally recognized the voice of… "Graham Stavropoulos."

"It seems unfortunate that we have to meet like this."

"I thought you retired," I said, growing angry.

I could hear him chuckling. "As you can see, I'm not out yet."

"Gray… what did you do?"

"Haven't you heard of it? They said one of my men was affiliated with Talon, and now everyone in the base are now incarcerated!"

I sighed. Gabe, what the hell did you do? "Gray, listen here-"

"We all trusted you, Morrison!" the bag shouted back. "We have served the organization by risking our lives so that _you_ can sit comfortably inside your glass office and nailing secretaries on your desk! We have sacrificed so much for this thankless task, and now me and my men are getting locked up from associating with terrorism! You think you're so innocent, protecting this super Omnic that has led the death of hundreds of thousands here in Africa-"

"What did you do to the girl, Graham?!"

"There's no going back for us."

"Are you even listening? I'm asking you….?" Wait a minute. He's not listening?

"And I'll—" _I grabbed the bag handle_ "-make sure there's—" _there was a click_ "-no coming back—" _I threw my back into it_ "-for-" _and heaved._

The explosion—

* * *

-threw me against the wall. If the Orgone Barrier hadn't activated, I would've been _this_ close on turning into a pancake. But that's not the worst part.

"That's the last of your shield, isn't it?" Pharah asked, putting away her rocket launcher and bringing out a 10mm. She didn't even bother to point it at me, and why would she? From there, she could evidently see that I can't even stand, much less stay conscious.

I expected her to be in the main office with Stragg, but it seems she got the better of me.

"Throw the gun away," she said while flexing her mechanized fingers. I didn't expect her to wear her Raptora suit (sans jet packs) while in office. That could be bad for her bones, and mine.

"Nnnggh…" I tried to speak, but my lungs were just something really hot inside my lungs.

"76," Gory called with a distorted voice. "I'm on emergency power now. I'm monitoring your body, and it says-"

"Not… now…" I gurgled out.

"It looks like you're hurt," Pharah said. "We'll give you medical care if you drop the pipe. It doesn't look like it will fire ever again."

'I could still pry your suit open, pluck your ribs out and play ping pong with it using your eyeballs!' is something that I would say if I haven't been too busy vomiting blood. I looked down to my arms cradling the broken shotgun. Maybe if I channel my inner action hero, maybe it'll be compelled to fire so it wouldn't disappoint me.

Crap, I must've hit my head harder to be thinking jokes so near my death. Or capture, whichever is most inconvenient with me. I tried bending over.

"Just do it, 76," Stragg said while kneeling at a corner with a bag over his head. "It is you, right? Hey, babe! Was that Soldier: 76?"

She ignored him. "Fine, have it your way." Pharah leaned back against Stragg's desk, looking a bit tired. "You either die now, or you surrender. Doesn't matter if we get a little less bounty. I can wait."

I tried getting out of my rocky bed, bending over, pushing my arms forward; make sure I look like I'm struggling.

Her ears perked from the sound of footsteps out in the halls. "It looks like your time is up. I admire your resolve on rescuing your supplier, but you have to accept that this is your last stop."

I kept my hand inside my pocket. With a heave, I got up, surprising her.

"That's far enough!" she warned as she raised her pistol, but I moved forward regardless. "Whatever is in your pocket, it can't save you."

I was in front of the door when the door blew open. Tin men rushed in with shotguns and surrounded me. They shouted threats and warnings while they aimed their barrels from outside my arm's reach. I could see Pharah's face forming a smile. Once a lot of them converge in front of me, in an effort to for a shield for their officer, I pulled my trap.

I squeezed the Biotic Emitter and set it to overdrive. Even from this distance, the nanites spread wide and far. Yellow glow touched the skins of the troopers and it did not take long before they are all screaming in pain from taking a whiff of Angela's gogo juice for the first time in their lives. It was then my cue to grin this time.

Grabbing a screeching trooper in front of me, I used him as a human plow and shoved him against the crowd. As soon as I got through them, I pushed the screeching mess into the not-really-smiling Pharah. She dropped her rocket launcher, prompting me to grab for it. I had to drop my broken shotgun in order to wield the boom-boom stick.

Pharah pushed the unconscious body off of her. "You still won't get aw-nnnnNNGAAHH!" She then succumbed to the power of healing.

I cleared my throat. "Let's see if birds can swim as much as they fly." I aimed the rocket launcher at the far wall and fired. The rocket pulverized the already leaking wall and let forth a tidal wave-like torrent, bearing down on us. I quickly turned around and launched another, blasting open another hole that leads into the hallway. I don't need pointless deaths hanging over my head if can't help it.

The water from outside came in like a force of nature. I ignored the cries of the now swept up troopers and I swam upstream towards Stragg.

"What the hell was that?!" Stragg yelled as pulled out my knife. I began working on his zip cuffs. "76, is that you? You're a real work of a-aaaAAHH!"

"Sorry, I can't turn it off!" I shouted to him as soon as I'm done with his ankles. "Hey, don't be such a pansy. You'll feel better once the magic is done." I hefted him across my shoulders and trudged towards the first hole that I created. There's no way in Hell I'm going back inside. If I kicked hornet's nest before, now I kicked the hyena's dead horse.

"Stragg!" I called him over his screaming. "Stragg, come on! We're going outside so take a deep breath!"

Like a dam, the hole gets larger and larger as pressure gave way. Grabbing hold of the crumbling wall, I looked outside to see that the rain isn't as heavy anymore, although the wind is just as uncooperative. With barely a branch visible, there's a tree right in front of us. I reached out to the underwater limb and pulled both of us out of the building.

Stragg came out of his pain-howls and instead howled in fear. "What the hell are you doing?! You're gonna get the both of us killed!"

"Either we make a break for it outside or we go back there and _really_ die! I say we take our friggin' chances!" I kept pulling from branch to branch. I looked up, expecting an attack. It's suicide, but Helix has two HVTs on the loose, under one day. "Gory! Point us back to the downed Druid!" It would take the whole afternoon without a vehicle, if I estimate this correctly.

"But what about my men?!"

I paused. "What?"

"What about my men?! You're going to leave them locked up?!"

"… I-"

* * *

"—can't save them…" I mumbled as I regained consciousness. I looked around and saw ashy smoke around me, and then I remembered. I tried getting up, but somehow my muscles are mutinying, and judging by how much my body hurts, I think they're voting for libertarian at the next term.

I then saw Agent Lundkwist from a distance, kneeling at a body. It appears that she noticed me moving. She ran and kneeled at my side, shouting something that I can't hear for some reason. If I read her lips correctly, I think she's trying to say, 'Currywurst' or something along the lines.

"Get me… sitrep," I groaned out as she pulled me into a sitting position. I raised my hand to my ear and flinched. I brought my hand out in front of me and saw blood. "Natalya, what happened?"

"The…g explod…" she said. I shook my head to clear it up. "We have six KIA. Over twelve more injured."

"Sev… Six?" For a moment, I couldn't believe what I'm hearing, but I did threw the bag on their direction. "Anubis?"

"The statue is fine," she said with bitterness. I've talked with enough grieving relatives to know that tone.

I grabbed her wrist. "Agent Natalya, I know how you feel." I don't want to lose them here. "But by the time every single one of us signed that paper, by the time we were chosen, we accepted the risks. All of it. We have an objective to keep the world safe, and as painful as it is for me to say it, this…" I waved at the crumpled bodies on the floor. "…we have-no, need sacrifices like these."

She slowly gazed at a groaning figure far away. "Al… I mean, Agent Marlin might not make it."

I patted her hand. "Promise him on a date if you can. Give him something to hope for." Then I noticed it. Beyond Marlin' body, the doors leading out are open. Anubis must be satisfied.

I raised my hand to my other ear till I realized that I'm not wearing my Cross Com. "Where is—Natalya, contact Team Three." I unsteadily stood up and tried to find the damn thing.

"We tried to, commander. They're not responding. We tried contacting the Druid to tell us what happened, but they are not responding either."

I looked at her. "What?" I have a bad feeling on this. "Get me Two-Actual."

"KIA, sir."

I turned a full circle, observing their dirty faces. "Anyone who can stand, grab a gun and follow me!" I pulled out my pistol and sprinted out of this cursed place. The ground was shaking.

By the time I could feel the noon sun burning my pale skin, I almost wished that I could go back. Streams of black smoke dirtied the clear blue sky as the Druid VTOL soared. It's not one of ours. It fired its machine gun at the ground, and I knew I have to act now.

I aimed and fired at the aircraft's propulsion engines, and as expected, not a lot of them reached their marks. The angle and distance makes the shots spread too far to be accurate and precise. I need to punch a hole on its engines in another way.

I sprinted into an empty hovel in order to cut his line of sight from me. Near the door, I could hear footsteps from the temple. Five agents ran through the entrance and five more fell by the Druid's machine gun. My hand dived into my pocket for my phone. Overwatch paid good money for those jets and now's the time to return those investments.

"Strike Commander Jack Morrison!" a loudspeaker from the Druid called and couldn't help feel angry at the sound of Graham's voice. "I'm out of rockets, but I could still level that whorehouse." I moved to the farthest wall of the hovel and dialed on my phone. "And before you try that pathetic pistol spraying that you did a while ago, I need to give you a little reminder. Come on, now! Scream for me!" I stopped dialing.

"No!" Fareeha shouted, sending me an ice pick into my spine.

"Now get back there!" I heard grunt of pain from the loudspeaker, and I couldn't help but gnash my teeth. "You brought this upon all of us, Jackie! Their deaths are all on you! The only forgiveness we'll accept is if you **die** for us!"

I cancelled dialing and switched to my radio app. I set the frequency to general. "Graham!" I don't care if the whole world is listening. "I remembered you as a proud veteran who fought for your nation and your family during the Crisis. All those lives that you saved and sacrificed means **nothing** to me now. I don't care if you're some hero in your heydays, but what you did today proves that you, and your men, are a mistake, and I'm here to correct it!"

I shoved my phone into my pocket and ran into the streets. Bullets the size of my thumb thumped between my legs as I fired my pistol one-handed. I jumped out of the gunfire and into another hovel.

The Druid's loudspeaker blared again. "That's tough talk for a man sick in the head. All you ever wanted was more power, and you wouldn't look twice at the people you've killed in order to have it! **You're** the mistake here, Jack! One day, ONE DAY, the world will thank me for killing the last tyrant of our world!"

Gray shot into the roof, creating beams of light into the dark hovel. I rushed out of the slaughterhouse once more and into the town square where the Druid hovered directly over. The remains of Team-Three lay all over the dusty floor, caking everything with blood and gore. Our Druid made a crater nearby. I was tempted to get a grenade from the remains, but I don't have the time. The Druid flew backwards to give its gun a clear angle. Before he does that, I jumped into the nearest building before he got a bead on me.

I was about to take a breath from all that running until I heard high-pitched whistling. I moved my ass out of that corner, ducked under a bench at the end of the room and watched half of the building exploding.

"Yeah, I lied about the rockets," Graham said.

I climbed out of brick hill, wincing as my head started bleeding again. I tried peering into the veil of dust around me, but it's thicker than pea soup. Graham couldn't care less as I heard more machine gun fire exploding somewhere. I tried hard to see a way out before he cuts me down. Judging by the engines, I could hear the Druid descending.

I was about to turn back until the dust blew the other way and revealed a set of stairs. I headed towards it, coughing along the way. As the stairs starts to bend, I hid at the corner there for a moment and waited for the VTOL's engines to get louder. The second the engines are the loudest, I bolted out of the stairs.

At the second floor, I could see the still shooting Druid just hovering outside the window, and I knew it was time for Graham to pay in blood. Using all of the strength of my—

* * *

-legs as we got closer and closer to the half-sunken Druid. It's almost morning again, judging by the time in my mask. My estimation was utter trash. We've marched along for all day and all night long. There was barely time to rest and eat. Gory shut down eight hours ago due to low battery. The super storm made the journey a living hell, and it was in great relief and anger that it died down once we reached the Druid.

"See?" I told Stragg, whom I was hauling by the shoulder. He looks even more like zombie with all that mud sticking on him. "We're almost home free, bud."

"Bud?" he groggily asked. "I'm wet! I'm cold! I think I saw my mother back there!"

"Look, just tell me how to use the torpedoes, okay?"

"Pssh. That safe house better have a Jacuzzi. And a wine cooler."

"Let's just settle with the wine cooler, shall we?"

We lumbered nearer to the downed aircraft before Stragg piped up. "Wait! I could see the SDV's over there!" He pointed at the mound of scrap next to the VTOL. "Come on! _Andale_!"

It looks like Helix tried digging for hidden equipment. They practically scooped up everything that isn't bolted down, and I couldn't believe this pile-no, mountain of trash here all came from the Druid. I settled Stragg next to an SDV and gave me the basics on how to operate it without a launch pod. It sounds simple enough.

After a few minutes, he then asked, "You got all that?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but that still leaves us little ways under the ocean surface. You think you could swim that far?"

"Hey, I was born near the beach. I can hold my breath. Now, help me push this off to the river."

We tried pushing, but we realized rolling it is easier. I was about to get the second torpedo until I heard the undeniable sound of miniaturized jets. Looking up, I groaned as a platoon of Helix jet troopers descends towards us.

"Th-that's just impossible," Stragg mumbled, his lips quivering. "That was a super-storm! How did they manage to catch up?!"

"No time for that, Stragg," I said, dropping the hunk of metal. "Get in the pod. I'll push you off."

"What about you?"

I ran towards him. "I'll deal with that later, so move!"

He opened the pod and entered it. "You're coming, right?" Stragg asked while I'm punching up the codes.

"I'll-" I looked up. "Look out!" I shoved his head down and closed the torpedo as a rain of rocket pelted around us. It was a warning shot since I'm still very alive. "Go-go-go!" I punched the button and the rotors started spinning. With a final heave, I sent Stragg off the river. At least that's one objective fulfilled.

A fountain of mud and swamp water exploded near me, and I knew that this might be it. I hefted my rocket launcher. Just three rockets left. I have to think fast. Without the Orgone Barrier, I won't stand a chance against one of them. And if I run away, they'll destroy the SDV torpedoes and I won't have any means of fast exfil. They know where I am now, and all they have to do is narrow the search area and tighten the patrols, so hiding here in the swamps would only delay the inevitable.

There's no doubt about it. I need to fight them here and now.

I dived into the river as more rockets rained down. I heard a whirring inside my ear, and then I realized I have no electricity left in order to activate the rebreather. No matter. I'll just hold my breath and wait. Green tentacles caressed my weary skin.

As expected, the Helix goons lobbed rockets into the river. A normal person would've died at this from the pressure alone, but I've got to hold on. It took thirty seconds before they knocked it off. Shadows shifted at the water's surface. They moved through me, and I could guess they want to follow where Stragg is headed. Hey, at least I don't have to fight _all_ of them.

Like a carp, I swam close to the river surface and waited for an unsuspecting prey. I strapped the rocket launcher over my shoulder and waited for the shadows to come closer. They're definitely looking for me, or bits of me. I swam up close to the top and shot my hand up. I pulled it down as fast as I brought it up and sank down a little. Shadows hovered a few feet away from where my hand splashed.

Marking a target whose shadow is darkest, I carefully waddled my way under him and sank a little more. Readying my body, I swam as hard as I can and jumped out of the water. I barely grabbed the trooper's ankle before he flew off. With the newly acquired cargo, the trooper's jet system got confused and started to list.

The trooper on the other hand yelled something mean in Yiddish. He tried shaking me off by boosting up. I could see more troopers converging on our flight path. None of them are attempting to shoot me, even when some of them are wielding rifles. I climbed up his body and he tried pushing me down with his other leg.

He managed to bring me down back to his ankle. Determined for a win, I swung my whole body to get him even more unbalanced. Before I knew it, he flew horizontally, face up. I climbed up again, reaching and hugging his hips like a lifeline. He tried pushing and punching me with his arms this time. I slammed my fist on his chest in retaliation.

We dipped again in even more dangerous angle, and I love every moment of it. He sure didn't, forcing himself to focus on flying up right with his right arm. With an arm excluded, I climbed up (or down) to his torso and gave him a smack on the jaw.

I looked down for a new target until I saw a lone figure on the ground near the Druid. I jumped from the unconscious trooper and set on the path towards my next victim. I was about to give him a mid-air roundhouse kick if it weren't for the fact that I got body slammed from behind. And we just kept going and going, flying towards the Druid's—

* * *

-cockpit. I slammed hard on the reinforced glass. I took a quick look and tried to find Fareeha. She's not on sight, but that's the least of my worries. Graham, donning a standard-issued exosuit. He acted surprised when he saw me, but I don't see fear. Good. I want to instill that heart-chilling fear myself.

I brought out my pistol and shot a barrage of plasma at the windshield. It melted it like a hot knife to his fingers once I get the hold of them. I aimed my shots directly at him and he brought his armored arm up to shield his face. Figuring that wouldn't work, unfortunately, I proceeded to Swiss cheese the windshield in front of me.

With a mighty swing, I smashed through the weakened glass and grabbed his wrist.

"Graham!" I yelled. "You know more than I that I'm stronger than that suit!"

"Then I'll make it even stronger!" Gray pressed a few buttons on his chest and pulled his arm along with me. I was thrown off—

* * *

-inside the empty cabin. We both skidded, rather painfully, across the rusty and moldy floor. I felt the rocket launcher getting pulled.

"That's mine," Pharah said, pulling harder. She's now wearing full armor, with a faceplate straight out of a trashy low-budget anime.

"You want it?" I growled. "Take it!" I pulled the trigger, aiming right at her. I don't know if my body can take another point blank blast without a shield, but at least I'll know now.

Pharah, through sheer impossibility, dodged the rocket, swerving her body in breakneck speed as the rocket flew to the roof. It exploded as expected. Pressure built up and shrapnel are flying. It's a good thing Pharah was in the way, blocking most of the shrapnel off. I looked up at—

* * *

-Fareeha, with a bruise at the side of her dirty little head, and saw only fear as she pulled me up. "Come on! You've got to beat him!"

"Get in the back, kid!" I immediately said as soon as I got up. "Do it, soldier." I pulled up my gun at the traitor right in front of me and fired a stream of plasma.

"Autopilot, on!" Gray said to the computer while shielding himself. "You won't survive this, Morrison!" He charged at me.

"You're not the first to tell me that lie!" I shouted back, walking forward with my finger firmly pressed against the trigger. I have to get him as far away from Fareeha, even if that means I need to cut his legs off of him in order to stop him.

He came at me fast, turning for a kick. I stepped back, the tip of his boots barely grazing my belt. I aimed my piece for his face again, but this time, he hand chopped my wrist and my pistol was thrown away. Thinking fast, I pushed myself and tackled—

* * *

-her down to the floor. I mounted her torso straightaway and punched her helmet repeatedly, each punch heavier than the last. I don't have to dent her helm; I only need her head to rattle. She wised up and moved her arms to block my punches. Gaining momentum, she grabbed a wrist and at the same time bucked her hip, throwing me off of her. In the process, the rocket launcher was gone from my shoulder.

After slamming and skidding over slime, I rapidly stood up and sprinted to her, but she was already up on her feet. I feigned a punch and she moved an arm to block it. I stopped on my tracks and posed for a defensive stance. We paused for a moment while the VTOL wobbled.

"Last chance, 76," Pharah stated coolly. "I promise you a fair trial and a lawyer if you cooperate peacefully."

"You lost me on 'fair'," I told her. "The moment I get into a jail cell is a death sentence to me. You're not the only one who wants me, and most of them don't intend to _capture_."

"No jail cell then." She dropped her guard and raised her hands, stepping back a little. "Helix prides itself for maximum protection. We'll be the ones watching over you. I'll have my most trusted men protecting you at all times. Our loyalty is always to our client, and the highest bidder our second."

I sighed, lowering my arms a little. "You're a good girl, Amari. If the world haven't been so shafted up its own ass… I might've believed you. **Might**." I raised my guard up. "I have a mission to accomplish. Overwatch has been attacked and I need to avenge all of those who died."

She brought her arms up. "You might die fighting me before that happens." She stepped forward. "Are you willing to risk it?"

"Risk?" I stretched and cracked my fingers. "Where I'm going, _anywhere_ I go, there's always, _always_ , a chance for me to die." I stepped forward. "The real question is… will you risk it?"

She chuckled. "You know my answer."

We moved forward, closing the gap. At the breaking point, I let out a quick—

* * *

-jab to the jaw, but he quickly grabbed my sleeve and forced me to overturn. From behind, Gray wrapped his arm around my neck. Two hands are the only things stopping from him crushing my windpipes.

He whispered into my ear. "I should've killed you back on that boat." His exosuit whirred and buzzed as its grip tightened.

I breathed. "We all… have…" I breathed again. "…our regrets…" I quickly jammed my fist between his arm and my neck, giving me some much-needed leverage. "And you're going to regret getting in my way!"

Using every little space I created, I pushed my head down and successfully escaped his hold. I bent down and jumped in a somersault…

 _ **It is not enough that I ascend – everyone else must fall.**_

…From there, I landed my feet on his shoulder and grabbed his head by the chin. I tried for a neck snap but he wouldn't let me. We rodeoed around the Druid, banging and smashing my body against the walls and furniture. Sensing a losing battle, I let go of his head and kicked him with both legs towards the cockpit.

He rebalanced himself halfway and turned around as I landed cleanly on the wobbling aircraft. Gray was about to charge into the fight again until he saw the-

* * *

-rocket launcher on the floor near her. She made a grab for it, giving me an opening to rush and kick her head like a football kickoff. She slammed against the wall, hard. Pharah's armor is twitching and sparking now from the numerous abuse that I gave her (not that she didn't land a number on me).

"Stand down, Pharah!" I told her, limping towards the gun and picking it up. "You lost."

"No…" She got up despite whatever her armor disagreeing with her. "I've won before this fight began." Her jet pack coughed and whined. I was prepared to dodge until I realize she's not aiming for me.

She jetted upwards through the hole on the roof. Pharah never looked more like an angel than this as her shoulder opened up. "Justice…"

 _ **It is not enough that I vanquish – all others must perish.**_

"…rains from above!"

Mini-rockets launched from her shoulders, and I knew I have to act fast. Turning faster than a top, I headed for the farthest end of the Druid. There wasn't enough room. I aimed the rocket launcher in front of me and fired. The tail end of the VTOL got demolished, leaving me a hole large enough to jump through.

I hit wet mud on my way out, but there was no time for me to rest. I scrambled away as the mini-rockets detonated all across the aircraft. I turned and saw Pharah giving the bird a final farewell. A funeral pyre.

The Druid burned and burned and burned, and I could only say, "I'm sorry-"

* * *

"—Torbjorn." I breathed and rapidly shouted, "Echo-Sigma-Charlie-Oh-Four! Self-destruct!"

As soon as I started speaking, Gray retracted his hand as the pistol exploded in blue cobalt flames. The explosion was not quite powerful, but the flames spread like a hive kicked. Graham screamed as the fire crawled on him and he accidentally kicked the controls wide open.

"WARNING! WARNING!" the computer blared. "ALL SYSTEMS ARE FAILING! BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

"Fareeha!" I shouted as I ran towards her. "Grab on to me!"

"Commander!" she cried to me with tears streaming from her eyes.

She dropped down as the Druid tilted. I slid next to her and hugged her tight. "I've got you, soldier!" I shot my arm for the railing near me. I held on to it for dear life. Gray's screaming seem to have no end as we tilted and tilted, swinging against the wind. We just kept turning and turning until Fareeha cried out for help.

I felt spinning, weightless and it seems like it goes on forever. I clenched my teeth, shutting my eyes closed and prepared for it. The screaming just doesn't end. The screaming just doesn't en—

-and before I knew it, I got slammed against the ceiling. I screamed in pain, and I can't tell how long.

Once my throat dried up, I squinted my tears away as I tried to look up. As I figured much, the Druid is upside-down. I could see the floor from here. Then I remembered about the shivering girl on my chest. She was sobbing.

"There… there now," I managed to say. "Everything's all right. Come on." I slowly sat up, wincing on the process. "Mission's a success, trooper. We're both going home."

She sniffed and looked up. "Huh?"

"I said – guh!" I worked my way to stand. "I said I'm taking you home."

I slid the side door open and carried the still sobbing Fareeha out on my arms. We're back at terra firma at last. The adrenaline is still pumping in my veins, giving me enough natural painkiller to continue our exfil. I have a very big limp, though.

I was about to decide if I should go back to the temple and call for a ride or go into the city alone before something clanged behind me. Slowly, I turned around at the noise.

"Jack!" Ex-lieutenant Stavropoulos, with half his face burned and his right ear missing, shouted from under the upside-down Druid, crushing half his body. The exosuit must've saved him. "Sir! Commander!" He raised up his hand. "You've got the kid? Good. Please, you've got to get me out of here. I think this thing is about to explode." I've noticed he's bleeding rather profusely.

"Sir?" No… that's not blood.

It's fuel.

 _ **It is not enough for me to be loved – my enemy must be left forgotten.**_

"Fareeha," I whispered to her. "Cover your ears. Now." She did so.

"What are you doing?" Gray asked.

I looked down and saw Fareeha is still staring at Gray. I quickly turned around to cut her gaze and said, "Look at me, soldier. Look at me!" She did as she was told with a shaken look. I walked forward. "We're going home, okay? You'll see your mommy soon."

"Sir!?" I could hear him clanging. "Jack!"

I looked forward with a smile. "You'll meet mommy again. I promise."

"Sir! You can't leave me here! Jack?! JACK?!"

The fire didn't start until three minutes after the crash, but I could hear him. I could hear-

* * *

-the VTOL groaning in pain. Pharah hovered down in front of her work. "Didn't see you there. Hold on." She took her battered helmet off and threw it on the ground. She truly grew up. I never knew how beautiful Fareeha is until the last moment.

She hovered for moment before jetting down towards me. With a two metal fists, I was sent flying back, skidding against the muddy floor and bounced like a skipping rock. For a moment there, I couldn't breath. My armor can only protect so much. With sheer anger alone, I forced my body to take air as I rolled over the mud and faced up. Black smoke from the burning Druid is blowing towards me.

Even with the darkness around me, I could sense a certain shadow rolling over me. "I still have some more rockets left inside my pods," Pharah said as she hovered. "Throw the launcher down." I did as I was told. "Good dog."

She glided down right towards me. I raised my hand over my head to block the light of the fire. She was right below the ground that I previously landed on. I sprang my trap. I tapped the side of my visor and detonated the rocket that I buried there. The explosion knocked her up to the sky.

This is what you get for using a simple design for your rockets. You may never know what Soldier: 76 might do with it.

I have to stand up now, but rage can fuel so much. I controlled my breathing and get some oxygen into my bloodstream; burn some energy into my muscles. Pharah fell to the ground by the time I crawled to my feet. I could hear troopers buzzing around, but the black smoke makes it hard to tell where they are. It's spreading everywhere.

I limped towards the junk heap to get the SDV, but the sound of a pistol cocking stopped me dead. I slowly turned around to see Pharah on the ground, her head bleeding, holding a pistol at me with her right arm.

"Depleted…," she said with teeth clenched, "uranium… Your move… asshole."

Think, Soldier, think. What are you going to do? That piece looks like it could do a lot of damage. If she were telling the truth, that thing would really kill me, with or without armor. She looks like she's about to faint, but her grip is firm. She might pull one in before sleeping. Judging by her wound, there must be some delirium swimming in her skull.

My eyes darted around the sky and saw that smoke is as thick as ever. This might be a gamble, but I have a mission to accomplish.

Slowly, I raised my hands to my mask. With a combination of pressure points around the edges, my mask gave a pneumatic hiss. I breathed in the ashy air unfiltered.

"No," Fareeha whispered, her eyes watering. "No! You're dead! You're a ghost! A ghost! **A ghost**!"

 _ **It is not enough for me to be feared – all must mourn.**_

"Get away from me!" She dropped her gun and crawled backward, clearly terrified at what she has seen.

I walked backwards with my eyes on her the whole time. She was scrambling back, screaming nonsense the whole way, and then stopped. Her head lulled and slowly she laid back and ceased moving. I heard the sound of jet engines buzzing closer, forcing me to put my mask back on my face.

Metal thudded on mud near where Pharah is. That gave me enough time to push the torpedo to the river. I looked back at the direction where Pharah is, but the smoke was just too thick. I've wasted enough time already. I punched the instructions and got inside the pod. I sighed and waited for the send off.


	6. Final Chapter

The SDV stopped. I reached up, pressed a button at the side, and let the ocean water to fill the pod. I took the time to wash my blooded face with the water pouring beside my ear. There's still no energy left for the rebreather, so I have to hold my breath again. After putting back my mask on, I waited for the pod to fill up.

Once it's done, I pulled the lever, which opens the pod. Blue waters, schools of fish, and a white sun filled my view. If I weren't holding my breath, I would've sighed at the sight. The sight that the battle is now over.

I stood up on the torpedo that saved my life. It's rapidly sinking without the momentum, so immediately I kneeled down for kickoff. With one powerful push, I bid my savior farewell and swam for the sun. Fishes moved out of my way, and I hope nothing around me gets any bigger than a tuna. There's not a lot of energy left inside of me since I haven't eaten anything proper for the past 48 hours.

As I swam upward, I noticed a shadow of a medium sized ship right at the corner of my eye. Hmm, maybe it's a fishing ship. I could probably call for help and ask him to drop me to the nearest pier. Maybe I'll meet Stragg on board there.

And then I sensed change. The ship slowed down, prompting me to stop swimming and wait for something to happen. Moments later, something was dropped at the side of it, and I could see divers! I prepared myself to swim away from them until I saw the divers making strange gestures. They're… waving at me?

I broke through the surface and took a deep breath of the salty sea air. Seagulls squawked at the sight of me and flew around like carrion birds. The ship, now a yacht, is moving towards me. And lo and behold, I could see a familiar face waving at the bow.

"Heeeey!" Stragg shouted against the wind, waving with both hands. "See? I told ya he'd be here!" He's wearing a bathrobe, which I wish it covered more. I waved back at him nonetheless. There's salt water irritating my eyes.

The two divers helped me to climb up, and I sure do need someone else's elbow grease for a change. These men have SMGs with them and has an air for the professional. I dropped down to the splendid deck of the yacht. It's a teenager's wet dream of what a millionaire feel like. A swimming pool in the middle, a 40' TV at the cabin wall, and a table of all sorts of delicacies. Pork cutlets, assorted vegetables, many different herring; it makes me regret having a mask on.

"Couldn't believe you made it!" Stragg said as he walked towards me with a glass of champagne. "I mean, I _know_ you can beat those jackbooted thugs, it's just that…" he coughed.

"Never mind that, Stragg," I said, patting his shoulder. "Didn't know you have friends from high places."

"What?" He said confusingly. "I thought they're with you."

I stepped back. "I thought they're with you."

"No, I thought they're with _you_." He pointed at me

"I've never met these people. I thought they're-"

"Gentlemen!" a new voice from the wheel interjected. We both looked up at the raven-haired captain. "I take it both of you are satisfied with the accommodations."

"I know you," I said to him.

He nodded and smiled sadly. "Yes you have." He pushed a button and the wheel steadied itself without his assistance. He straightened his polo shirt and walked down the stairs towards us. His hand pulled his sunglasses, revealing a pair of piercing blue eyes. "We meet again, Soldier."

"Dun-" I stopped myself and looked at Stragg.

"Dunny," he finished, smiling ruefully. "I almost forgot about that nickname." He raised his hand towards me.

I shook it. "Well, I never caught your real name."

"William Vice."

"Bull." I pulled my hand. "That sounds like straight out of an action movie."

He shrugged. "You think I'm going to give you my name _that_ easily?"

I chuckled. "No." I looked at Stragg, "Stragg, this is Dunny." Dunny gave me the middle finger. "I… used to serve with him, many eternities ago."

"Oh. Swanky ride ya got here, Dunny." He toasted.

"Don't make me throw you out." He turned walked towards the quarterdeck. "Come! Come! I take it you two have some questions that needs answering."

"Well," Stragg started as we followed him, "how did you find us?"

"Your handler." Dunny leaned against the railings. "We were monitoring him for a long time now. He set you up."

"Figures." Stragg was about to throw his glass into the ocean, but decided against it halfway. He took a sip. "That means I'm out?"

"Hmm. Does 'if they find you alive, they'll gut you' counts?"

"Yeah, it counts." He takes a heavier swig.

"We've been tracking Stragg for a long time too," Dunny continued.

"What for?" I asked.

"I've seen his record. He knows how to make guns. If it's not as powerful as the infamous Torbjorn, but he can mass produce what's current."

"Hey," Stragg said, turning to him. "That sounds like you're sizing me up? What are you going to do? Recruit me?"

He nodded and produced a card from out of nowhere. "You're currently unemployed." He gave the card to Stragg. "Our agency needs someone who can copy good tech fast."

"Sounds sketchy," he said. "So the minute you heard I was getting burned, you came to our rescue?"

"Correction: your rescue." Dunny looked at me. "We didn't expect _the_ Soldier to come along. Other than that, I was the nearest agent in the area. It's not my decision. Buuut…" He stepped towards me. "Now that you're here, maybe I could get _you_ a position."

"Which three-letter agency is this?" I asked as crossed my arms.

"You may remember a certain general mentioning this group to you while you were robbing his house."

 _General Hayes?_

I raised an eyebrow. "Him? This is the group he was talking about?"

"Yes. It may not be as big or as powerful as Overwatch, but we're protecting the three big letters that matters."

"Wait," Stragg interrupted. "Soldier is in on this?"

"No," I answered directly.

"76," Dunny calmly said. "Think about this. Just think for a moment."

"My answer is still 'no'."

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Stragg said, waving me to follow him towards the lower decks. "You know, this could be our big break."

I patted his shoulder. "Why don't _you_ take the break, Stragg. And since when there was a 'we'?"

We stopped at the crook of the stairs. "Look, I need a partner for this new venture, Soldier. After what happened to my base, I don't know who to trust anymore."

"Stragg, I don't know if I could trust these people too. I appreciate the offer, but…"

"There's a mission?" he finished, looking at me.

I nodded. "There's a mission. And I need to complete it. People beyond the grave demands it."

"Christ." He chuckled. "I think you're too over the bend to be my partner."

Silence.

"So what happens now?" I asked him.

He fanned the card. "Maybe I'll take it. Maybe I don't." He looked over the horizon. "Hey, Soldier?"

"Yeah?"

"Your promise. You said you have a debt to repay, and that you'll tell me when we're in the clear." He raised his arms. "Well, it's as good time as any."

I sighed and rested my arms against the railings. "Graham Stavropoulos."

He sneered. "Never thought I'd be hearing that name again."

"You know what happened to him, right?"

"You got something to do with my former lieutenant?"

"Well, to _you_ actually. I know who you are Stragg, and I believe you. You've never worked for Talon."

He threw the glass into the sea. "Yeah?"

I looked at the water. "Back then, I had the power to clear your name."

"What, you were some higher up?"

I nodded. "One of the highest. That one accusation locked up you and your platoon, and I couldn't clear it in time. The attack against Cdr. Jack Morrison in Diamond Hotel, who so happens to be your squad mate _and_ a member Talon, _really_ didn't help your case. A public relations attack. Talon always have men to dispose whenever the case arises."

"My platoon leader snapping hadn't helped either. Turning coat, killing honor guards, kidnapping a hostage."

"The list goes on, yes. By the time the dust settled, I heard all of you got discharged… except you."

He nodded. "I wished I could get those Blackwatch thugs. But-" he shrugged, "—all of that is in the past now. The Swiss base got blown up with most of Blackwatch and Commander Morrison. At least I think so. And I'd probably get my ass handed to me if I meet them again."

"There's still some Blackwatch left. Some good, some bad… Well, let's leave it at that."

"Soooo," Stragg joined me in staring at the water. "I guess you settled the debt, eh?"

"You couldn't even use your real name."

"Maybe a biography one day will be published in the future. It could clear things up."

"It wouldn't clear your skin."

He smiled. "Yeah, I'd like to have my skin back."

"You gentlemen finished?" Dunny asked from up top.

Stragg stopped me by the shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to join me?"

I pulled his hand away. "My mission is just that important. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be." Stragg smiled.

We both went up. "What'll it be, Soldier?" Dunny asked again.

"Not happening," I firmly said. "Tell the good general my thanks, nonetheless."

"I'll deliver it personally," he said. He couldn't hide his disappointment. He produced a brown envelop behind him. "But before you go, there's a favor that needs to be asked."

I didn't move. "A favor for you?"

"A favor to the world," he said with all seriousness.

Slowly, I stepped forward to take the envelope. I looked at him and he nodded. Opening the flap, I pulled out a thin tablet. I turned it on and read the things presented to me. "My, my," I said as I skimmed through it. "An interesting development." I shoved the tablet back in the envelope.

"So you'll do it?"

I turned my head. "How many people know this?"

"Only the important ones. None of them are lifting a finger." I growled. "Someone has to diffuse the situation, and it has to be someone not within our agency. If we move… everyone moves. So you'll do it?"

I sighed. "I need to get back to my safe house, fast."

"The meter's not going red in a few months. You could stay with us and plan."

"I think better alone."

Dunny sighed and snapped a finger I could hear a motor running from a distance. From far away, a speedboat is heading towards us. "You don't want me to tag along?" Stragg asked. I shook my head.

I went down to meet the speedboat. "Hey! For what it's worth, I hope we meet again, 76!" Stragg shouted.

I waved goodbye to him. Dunny walked by my side. "I've been to meaning ask you this," I said as we continued walking. "Do you know what happened to Blackwatch?" I watched the driver of the speedboat boarded.

"We went our separate ways," Dunny said simply. "Not a lot of us are happy with the things are going, so there's a lot of desertion way before the Fall."

"What I mean is… what happened? How?"

He shrugged. "I went in there to spy those guys for many years, and I still couldn't understand why Reyes did it." We stopped in front of the entry port. "What we have in that tablet contains what we know about the incident. My firsthand experience included. I don't know if it'll help you. It didn't help us."

"I can draw the lines."

"I…" Dunny started to say as I descended, but hesitated. "No, the world is counting on you, Soldier: 76." He then gave me a straight salute.

"This is why I hate this part." I returned the salute.

I mounted the speedboat and headed drove it towards to the nearest shore. Seawater sprayed all around me, and then I realized I haven't eaten anything. Oh well. Maybe I'll bust a vending machine at a town or something. While on the way, I opened up the glove compartment for any sign of a bug. I'll be ditching this thing at the shore, but you may never know. The first thing I saw was a bag. With one hand, I unzipped it and smiled.

"God bless that bastard."

* * *

I sighed as I returned to my mini-sub. I lavish the moment as I sat on my leather seat. After strapping my safety harnesses, I plugged in the recharger to my chest.

"Soldier!" Gory cheerily greeted. "Sorry I wasn't much help back there."

"You don't have to be sorry. Mission is very much accomplished." I turned the engines on.

"Oh! Can you fill me up?"

I chuckled as I removed my mask. "As soon as I finish reading this." I reopened the brown envelop.

"What's that?"

"Our next mission."

Before going into my long reading session, I opened up a bottle of Gatorade.

FIN


End file.
